THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 
COMMODORE  BYRON  MCCANDLESS 


REMINISCENCES 


OF   A 


NONAGENAR:  AN 


BY    SAKAH    ANNA    EMEKY 


AUTHOK  OF  "  THREE  GENERATIONS. 


NEWBURYPORT : 

WILLIAM    H.    HDSE    &    CO.,    PRINTERS,    42    STATE    STREET. 
1879. 


PREFACE. 


THIS  volume,  as  its  title  implies,  has  been  chiefly  derived  from  the  recollections  of  my 
mother ;  but  recitals  by  my  father,  grandparents  and  other  deceased  relatives  and  friends 
have  aided  the  work,  and  I  have  obtained  many  anecdotes  and  facts  from  several  aged  per- 
sons still  living.  My  thanks  are  due  to  others  less  advanced  in  life,  especially  to  J.  H.  HAM- 
LIN,  esq.,  of  Portland,  Maine,  for  details  respecting  the  Poyen  family,  and  for  the  description 
of  their  ancestral  home  in  Gaudaloupe;  to  Miss  REBECCA  INGERSOLL  DAVIS  of  East  Haver- 
hill,  for  others  relating  to  the  Countess  De  Vipart ;  to  Mr.  LYMAN  COLE  of  Newburyport,  for 
his  family  history;  to  GEORGE  EDWIN  EMERY  of  Lynn,  Mass.,  for  facts  respecting  our  ances- 
tors, and  their  home  in  England,  and  for  the  history  of  the  name  of  Emery;  also  to  THOMAS 
C.  AMOKY,  esq.,  of  Boston,  for  Amory  records;  to  JAMES  CHUTE  PEABODY,  esq.,  for  valua- 
ble information.  I  am  indebted  to  the  "  Genealogy  of  the  LITTLE  Family,"  compiled 
by  GEORGE  T.  LITTLE;  to  that  of  HALE  by  ROBERT  S.  HALE,  LL.D. ;  to  EDMUND  SMITH, 
esq.,  for  the  "  Heraldry  of  SMITH,  London,  JOHN  RUSSELL  SMITH,  36  Soho  square,  1870;"  to 
BENJAMIN  HALE,  esq.,  and  other  persons  and  families  who  have  kindly  loaned  genealogies 
and  ancient  documents.  I  have  received  assistance  from  the  Histories  of  Newbury  and  New- 
buryport  by  JOSHUA  COFFIN,  esq.,  and  Mrs.  E.  VALE  SMITH;  and  JOHNSTON'S  History  of  the 
Campaign  on  Long  Island  in  1776 ;  from  the  Record  of  Schools,  by  Mr.  O.  B.  MERRILL, 
published  by  the  "Antiquarian  and  Historical  Society"  of  Old  Newbury;  GAGE'S  History  of 
Rowley  and  Genealogical  Register,  1869.  In  the  family  records  I  have  aimed  at  an  arrange- 
ment that  will  enable  the  descendants  of  the  present  generation  to  trace  their  lineage,  and  I 
have  endeavored  to  note  those  born  within  the  limits  of  Newbury  and  Newburyport,  who 
have  been  college  graduates,  or  have  otherwise  become  distinguished. 

My  desire  has  been  to  give  a  graphic  history  of  "  Ye  Olden  Time"  ;  to  faithfully  portray 
the  domestic,  religious,  political,  literary  and  social  life  of  a  past  age,  with  a  description  of 
"  Ould  Newberry,"  and  of  the  business  and  aspect  of  Newburyport  prior  to  the  great  fire  of 
1811.  The  ancient  town  has  been  rich  in  matters  of  world-wide  interest  and  historic  value. 

About  1650,  at  the  Dummer,  now  Glen  Mills,  was  set  up  the  first  cloth  mill  in  America. 
In  the  Byfield  parish  was  the  first  woolen  and  cotton  factory  in  Massachusetts,  and  there  the 
first  broadcloth  manufactured  in  the  country  was  made.  There,  Perkins  the  inventor  of  the 
plate  for  engraving  bank  notes,  set  up  the  first  nail  factory.  In  the  same  parish,  in  1680,  at 
the  head  of  tide-water  on  the  river  Parker,  the  first  vessel  was  built  in  New  England.  Later, 
the  first  academy  was  founded  by  Gov.  Dummer,  and  still  later,  the  first  incorporated  rifle 
company  was  formed.  In  the  West  Precinct,  now  West  Newbury,  the  first  horn  combs  and 
buttons  were  manufactured  by  Mr.  Enoch  Noyes.  In  Newburyport  Master  Pike  published 
the  first  Arithmetic,  and  the  stalwart  ship  carpenter,  Eleazer  Johnson,  burned  the  first  tea 
in  ante-revolutionary  times,  previous  to  its  destruction  in  Boston.  His  son  Nicholas,  com- 
manding a  Newburyport  ship,  the  "  Count  de  Grass,e"  was  the  first  to  display  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  on  the  river  Thames.  Newburyport  has  also  the  honor  of  having  founded  the  first 
Sunday  and  female  high  schools  in  Massachusetts.  That  the  book  may  satisfy  the  expectations 
of  relatives  and  friends,  and  prove  a  source  of  instruction  and  interest  to  the  public  generally, 
is  the  sincere  wish  of 

SARAH  ANNA  EMERY. 

Newburyport,  1879. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Ninety  years  is  a  long  period  to  re- 
view. The  world  of  to-day  is  an  en- 
tirely different  thing  from  that  of  my 
earliest  recollection.  How  vividly  I 
recall  the  old  homestead  —  the  large 
brown  house,  built  in  1707,  with  its 
wide,  sloping  back  roof,  and  many  sized 
and  shaped  windows ;  the  long  barn 
and  other  farm  buildings  in  the  rear ; 
the  well,  with  its  graceful  sweep  in 
front,  and  the  usually  huge  wood  pile 
at  the  back.  Before  the  house  stretched 
a  large  garden,  well  stocked  with  pear, 
peach  and  cherry  trees.  Currant  and 
gooseberry  bushes  grew  luxuriantly  be- 
neath the  sheltering  board  fence,  that 
separated  the  enclosure  from  the  broad 
fields  and  orchards  around.  There  was 
a  clump  of  quince  bushes  in  one  corner, 
and  in  another  two  Plum  Island  plum 
bushes,  that  had  grown  from  stones 
taken  from  fruit  brought  from  the  isl- 
and. There  was  also  a  great  variety 
of  medicinal  and  sweet  herbs,  and  from 
early  spring  till  late  in  autumn  the  bor- 
ders on  either  side  of  the  gravel  walk 
were  gay  with  flowers.  These  flowers 
were  one  of  the  greatest  delights  of 
my  childhood.  How  distinctly  I  re- 


member every  shrub  and  bush,  and  the 
pleasure  I  received  in  dispensing  my 
treasures  amongst  my  less  favored 
neighbors,  who  often  came  to  beg  a 
rose,  a  bunch  of  pinks,  or  some  spear- 
mint or  lavender  "to  take  to  meetin' 
to  keep  'em  awake  Sabba'  day." 

Crossing  the  broad,  unhewn  door- 
stone  and  opening  the  wide  front  door, 
you  saw  a  narrow  entry  with  a  flight  of 
winding  stairs  at  the  back.  As  you 
stepped  across  the  threshold  your  feet 
fell  upon  a  trap  door  in  the  floor. 
Through  this  cavity  passed  all  the  farm 
produce  that  was  annually  stored  in  the 
cellar.  Carts  filled  with  potatoes,  tur- 
nips, etc.,  were  backed  up  to  the  door 
and  their  contents  chuted  into  the  sub- 
terranean regions  below,  while  from  the 
iron  stanchion  in  the  unplastered  ceil- 
ing overhead  was  lowered,  by  rope  and 
pulleys,  barrel  after  barrel  of  apples 
and  cider.  The  house  was  constructed 
in  the  style  common  to  the  period, 
two  spacious  rooms  on  either  side  of 
the  front  entry,  with  wide  fireplaces,  and 
low  ceilings  crossed  in  the  centre  by  a 
broad  beam.  The  two  front  windows 
in  both  rooms  were  long  and  narrow ; 


REMINISCENCES 


the  one  in  the  end  was  square.  Open- 
ing from  these  apartments  were  the 
summer  kitchen,  bed-rooms  and  the 
dairy.  The  fireplaces,  both  below  and 
in  the  chambers,  showed  an  attempt  at 
architectural  ornament,  in  the  high 
mantel  pieces.  Those  in  the  two  front 
rooms  were  both  furnished  with  a  large 
oven  in  a  corner  to  the  right,  and  a 
smaller  one  in  that  opposite.  These 
were  closed  by  brightly-painted  red 
oven  lids ;  and  in  the  right-hand  cor- 
ner stood  a  long,  low  form,  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  smaller  members 
of  the  household.  There  were  long 
dressers,  also,  showing  some  effort  at 
elegance  in  the  carving  of  the  shelves, 
which  were  loaded  with  pewter  ware,  as 
bright  as  silver,  and  a  comer  cupboard, 
in  the  county  phraseology  termed  a 
"beaufat,"  which  displayed  rare  treas- 
ures of  China,  glass  and  silver. 

My  father  and  mother,  recently  mar- 
ried, occupied  one  half  of  the  house  ; 
my  widowed  grandmother,  with  anoth- 
er son  and  daughter,  resided  in  the 
other  half.  Young  people,  their  for- 
tune still  to  be  made,  my  parents' 
rooms  were  plainly  furnished,  with  com- 
mon tables  and  flag-bottomed  chairs. 
A  high  case  of  drawers  was  the  chief 
ornament  to  the  best  bedroom,  the  oth- 
ers boasting  of  only  a  chest  of  drawers. 
These  were  about  the  height  of  a  bu- 
reau, with  a  chest  atop  and  one  or  two 
drawers  beneath.  The  square,  high- 
post  bedsteads  were  tastily  hung  with 
muslin  and  chintz  curtains,  and  cov- 
ered with  the  prettiest  of  coverlids, 
woven  in  love-knots  and  other  dainty 
patterns,  or  with  quilts  stiff  with  the 
most  elaborate  quilting.  Grandmoth- 
er's rooms  were  much  more  elegant. 
While  my  mother,  the  oldest  of  nine 
children,  was  provided  with  a  common 


fitting  out,  my  grandmother,  the  heiress 
to  quite  a  fortune,  had  received  an  out- 
fit that,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage, 
had  been  the  chief  topic  for  tea-table 
talk  throughout  the  country-side.  The 
bridal  trousseau  and  the  best  furniture 
had  been  imported  from  England  ex- 
pressly for  her,  by  indulgent  and  some- 
what aristocratic  parents.  The  green 
damask  dress,  and  brown  camblet  cir- 
cular cloak  and  riding  hood,  with  the 
high-heeled  brocade  slippers,  were,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking,  still 
as  fresh  as  new,  and  a  peep  at  them 
was  a  rare  treat  wl|ich  was  sometimes 
vouchsafed  when. I  was  especially  good. 
Grandmother's  front  room  had  bow- 
backed chairs  with  flag  seats,  and  ta- 
bles supported  by  curiously-carved  and 
twisted  legs,  a  candle  stand  that  screwed 
up  and  down  like  a  piano  stool,  a  hand- 
some mirror,  and  the  buffet  was  re- 
splendent in'  its  appointments.  Her 
best  bed  was  hung  with  green  moreen 
curtains,  edged  by  heavy  gimp  trim- 
ming ;  the  case  of  drawers  was  decor- 
ated with  fluted  drawers  in  the  upper 
tier,  and  surmounted  by  ornaments  of 
carving.  There  was  a  handsome  dress- 
ing table,  a  fine  specimen  of  the  sculp- 
tured frames  of  the  period,  with  sever- 
al drawers  and  compartments.  Over 
this  hung  a  glass,  the  plate  surrounded 
by  an  ornamental  wreath,  and  a  frame 
of  colored  glass,  set  in  mahogany 
moulding.  The  back  chamber  —  the 
large  one  under  the  long,  sloping  back 
roof — was  set  apart  for  manufacturing 
purposes.  Here  the  chief  part  of  the 
clothing  and  other  household  goods  for 
the  family  were  spun  and  woven.  The 
apartment  was  conveniently  fitted  up 
with  looms,  woolen,  linen  and  spooling 
wheels,  swifts,  reels,  cards  and  warp- 
ing bars.  Here,  also,  stood  the  great 


OF  A  NONAGENARTAST. 


grain  chest,  well  stored  with  wheat, 
rye,  oats  and  barley.  Our  farm  was 
well  adapted  to  the  growth  of  wheat. 
My  father  raised  enough  to  supply  his 
family,  and  had  a  surplus  for  the  mar- 
ket. The  large  garret,  besides  being 
the  receptacle  for  all  the  odds  and  ends 
of  housekeeping,  was  annually  filled 
with  Indian  corn,  a  corn  barn  being  a 
later  addition  to  the  premises. 


CHAPTER  II. 

My  parents  had  married  young. 
Their  chief  capital  for  commencing  life 
was  youth,  health  and  mutual  love. 
My  grandfather's  decease  dated  a  few 
years  prior  to  his  son's  marriage,  and 
the  large  farm,  with  the  exception  of 
the  widow's  dower,  had  been  divided 
between  the  five  sons.  At  this  time 
my  father  had  purchased  one  of  these 
shares,  and  he  was  making  strenuous 
exertions  to  secure  the  rest  of  the  pa- 
ternal acres.  Industry  and  economy- 
were  the  watchwords  of  the  household  : 
still,  there  was  no  overtasking  nor 
stint. 

In  those  summer  days,  when  my  rec- 
ollection first  opens,  mother  and  Aunt 
Sarah  rose  in  the  early  dawn,  and,  tak- 
ing the  well-scoured  wooden  pails  from 
the  bench  by  the  back  door,  repaired 
to  the  cow  yard  behind  the  barn.  "We 
owned  six  cows  ;  my  grandmother  four. 
Having  milked  the  ten  cows,  the  milk 
was  strained,  the  fires  built,  and  break- 
fast prepared.  Many  families  had  milk 
for  this  meal,  but  we  alwaj's  had  coffee 
or  chocolate,  with  meat  and  potatoes. 
During  breakfast  the  milk  for  the  cheese 


was  warming  over  the  fire,  in  the  large 
brass  kettle.  The  milk  being  from  the 
ten  cows,  my  mother  made  cheese  four 
days,  Aunt  Sarah  having  the  milk  the 
remainder  of  the  week.  In  this  way 
good-sized  cheeses  were  obtained.  The 
curd  having  been  broken  into  the  bas- 
ket, the  dishes  were  washed,  and,  un- 
less there  was  washing  or  other  extra 
work,  the  house  was  righted.  By  the 
tune  this  was  done  the  curd  was  read}' 
for  the  press.  Next  came  preparations 
for  dinner,  which  was  on  the  table 
punctually  at  twelve  o'clock.  In  the 
hot  weather  we  usually  had  boiled  salt- 
ed meat  and  vegetables,  and,  if  it  was 
baking  day,  a  custard  or  pudding.  If 
there  was  linen  whitening  on  the  grass, 
as  was  usual  at  this  season,  that  must 
be  sprinkled.  After  dinner  the  cheeses 
were  turned  and  rubbed ;  then  mother 
put  me  on  a  clean  frock,  and  dressed 
herself  for  the  afternoon.  Our  gowns 
and  aprons,  unless  upon  some  special 
occasion,  when  calico  was  worn,  were 
usually  of  blue  checked  home-made 
gingham,  starched  and  ironed  to  a  nice 
gloss. 

In  the  sultry  August  afternoons 
mother  and  Aunt  Sarah  usually  took 
their  sewing  to  the  cool  back  room, 
whose  shaded  door  and  windows  over- 
looked the  freshly-mown  field,  dotted 
by  apple  trees.  Beyond  the  mossy 
stone  wall  stood  the  homestead  of  Un- 
cle Samuel  Thurlow  (at  that  time  this 
name  was  pronounced  Thurrell),  our 
next  neighbor.  Other  buildings  came 
to  view,  interspersed  with  hill  and 
meadow,  forest  and  orcharding.  The 
line  of  brown  houses  —  very  few  were 
at  that  time  painted  —  marked  the  po- 
sition of  the  main  road.  Across  rose 
the  square  meeting-house,  crowning  the 
high,  precipitous  hill  upon  which  it  was 


8 


REMINISCENCES 


perched.  Farther  on,  the  spires  of  the 
distant  seaport  town  glittered  in  the 
afternoon  light,  which  fell  in  brilliant 
beams  upon  the  sands  of  the  beaches 
and  Plum  Island,  and  whitened  the 
sails  of  vessels  far  away  upon  the  blue 
sea,  whose  line  blended,  almost  imper- 
ceptibly, with  the  tints  of  the  sky  in 
the  eastern  horizon. 

My  grandmother,  after  her  afternoon 
nap,  usually  joined  her  daughters,  with 
a  pretence  at  knitting,  but  she  was  not 
an  industrious  old  lady.  There  was  no 
necessity  for  work ;  and  if  idle  hours 
are  a  sin,  I  fear  the  good  woman  had 
much  to  answer  for.  Leaning  back  in 
her  easy-chair,  she  beguiled  the  time 
with  watching  the  splendid  prospect, 
with  its  ever-varying  lights  and  shades, 
or  joined  in  the  harmless  gossip  of 
some  neighboring  woman,  who  had  run 
in  with  her  sewing,  for  an  hour's  chat. 

At  five  o'clock  the  men  came  from 
the  field,  and  tea  was  served.  The  tea 
things  washed,  the  vegetables  were 
gathered  for  the  morrow,  the  linen  tak- 
en in,  and  other  chores  done.  At  sun- 
set the  cows  came  from  the  pasture. 
Milking  finished  and  the  milk  strained, 
the  day's  labor  was  ended.  The  last 
load  pitched  on  the  hay  mow,  and  the 
last  hay  cock  turned  up,  my  father  and 
the  hired  man  joined  us  in  the  cool 
back  room,  where  bowls  of  bread  and 
milk  were  ready  for  those  who  wished 
the  refreshment.  At  nine  o'clock  the 
house  was  still,  the  tired  hands  gladly 
resting  from  the  day's  toil.  Except 
during  the  busiest  of  the  hay  season, 
my  father  went  regularly  once  a  week 
to  the  neighboring  seaport  town,  taking 
thither  a  load*  of  farm  produce.  For 
years  he  supplied  several  families  and 
stores  with  butter,  cheese,  eggs,  fruit 
and  vegetables.  These  market  days 


were  joyful  epochs  for  me,  as  at  his  re- 
turn I  never  failed  to  receive  some  lit- 
tle gift,  usually  sent  b}T  some  of  our 
"Port"  relatives  and  friends. 

Butter  making  commenced  in  Sep- 
tember ;  only  ' '  two  meal  cheese "  were 
made,  that  is,  one  milking  of  new  milk 
and  one  of  skimmed  to  the  cheese,  the 
cream  of  one  milking  going  to  the  but- 
ter. The  weaving  of  woolen  cloth  was 
begun,  in  order  that  it  should  be  re- 
turned from  the  mill  where  it  was  fulled, 
colored  and  pressed  in  tune  to  be  made 
up  before  Thanksgiving.  This  mill 
was  in  By  field,  at  the  Falls,  on  the 
site  of  the  present  mill,  and  was  owned 
and  run  by  Mr.  Benjamin  Pearson. 
The  winter's  stocking  yarn  was  also 
carded  and  spun,  and  the  lengthening 
evenings  began  to  be  enlivened  by  the 
busy  click  of  knitting  needles.  As 
Thanksgiving  approached,  the  hurry 
both  in  doors  and  out  increased. 

With  awe  I  would  tiptoe  to  the  edge 
of  the  open  trap  door  which  I  had 
been  strictly  enjoined  not  to  approach, 
to  peep  at  the  things  which  had  been 
carried  into  the  cellar ;  then  I  would 
patiently  toil  after  perspiring  Uncle 
Burrill,  my  favorite  amongst  the  hired 
men,  as  he  wearily  bore  basket  after 
basket  full  of  the  long,  golden  ears  of 
Indian  corn  into  the  large  garret,  which 
to  my  childish  vision  appeared  so  very 
vast  and  mysterious. 

While  of  an  evening  the  males  of  the 
family  were  bus}'  husking  on  the  barn 
floor,  b}T  the  light  of  the  hunter's  moon, 
the  females  were  'equally  engaged 
around  the  sparkling  fire,  which  the 
chilly  evenings  rendered  grateful,  peel- 
ing apples,  pears  and  quinces,  for 
cider  apple-sauce  and  preserves. 

After  the  cloth  had  been  brought 
from  the  mill,  tailor  Thurrell  from  the 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


Falls  village  appeared,  goose  in  hand, 
remaining  several  days,  to  fashion  my 
father's  and  uncle's  coats  and  breeches. 
Mother,  a  manteau-niaker  before  her 
marriage,  had  her  hands  more  than  full, 
as  she  was  not  only  called  upon  to 
make  the  gowns  for  our  family,  but  to 
fit  the  dresses  for  her  own  mother  and 
sisters  and  others  in  the  vicinity.  As 
the  cold  increased  the  cheese  were  car- 
ried to  the  cellar,  and  the  cheese  room 
was  scoured.  The  week  before  Thanks- 
giving the  ox  which  had  been  stalled 
for  the  occasion,  was  killed.  Part  of 
the  beef  was  salted,  the  remainder  put 
in  a  cool  place,  and  as  soon  as  the 
weather  was  sufficiently  cold  it  was 
frozen,  in  order  to  preserve  it  fresh 
through  the  winter.  The  house  was 
banked  up ;  everything  without  and 
within  made  tight  and  trim,  to  defy  as 
much  as  possible  the  -approach  of  old 
Boreas. 

Thanksgiving  brought  a  social  sea- 
son. There  was  much  visiting  and  dis- 
tribution of  good  cheer  for  a  week 
or  two  after  that  holiday.  Towards 
Christmas  the  fat  hogs  were  killed, 
the  pork  salted,  the  hams  hung  in  the 
wide  chimney  to  cure,  and  the  sau- 
sages made.  The  women  began  to 
comb  flax  and  spin  linen  thread  ;  the 
men  went  daily  to  cut  and  haul  the  year's 
firewood.  We  were  too  good  Puritan s 
to  make  much  account  of  Christmas, 
though  sometimes  the  young  people  at 
the  main  road  got  up  a  ball  on  Christ- 
mas eve,  but  at  New  Year,  there  was  a 
general  interchange  of  good  wishes, 
with  gifts  and  festivity. 

As  soon  as  the  spring  weather  would 
permit  weaving  without  a  fire,  the 
looms  in  the  back  chamber  were  set  in 
motion,  weaving  the  next  season's  lin- 
en. Next  came  candle-dipping,  the 

2 


making  of  soap,  and  house  cleaning. 
The  calves  had  been  sold,  churning 
commenced,  and  butter  was  made  until 
the  warmer  weather  brought  the  sum- 
mer routine. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Thanksgiving  day  I  accompanied  my 
parents  to  my  Grandfather  Little's.  A 
visit  to  my  mother's  maiden  home  was 
at  all  times  one  of  my  highest  pleasures. 
HfLy  grandmother,  a  daughter  of  the  first 
pastor  of  the  upper  parish,  the  Rev. 
William  Johnson,  was  one  of  those 
rare  women  whom  every  one,  old  and 
3Toung,  rich  and  poor,  loved  and  re- 
vered. A  minister's  daughter,  and 
highly  educated  for  those  days,  the 
wisdom  of  my  grandfather's  choice  as 
regarded  his  worldly  success,  had  been 
a  subject  of  doubt  throughout  the  fam- 
ily. His  thrifty  sisters  all  declared 
that  ' '  Brother  Jose  could  never  get 
ahead  with  a  wife  so  genteel  as  to  wash 
her  hearth  every  day,  have  a  border  of 
posies  afore  her  front  door  to  tend,  be- 
sides ruffles  on  her  leetle  gal's  sleeves 
to  iron."  Notwithstanding  these  dire 
prognostications,  Brother  Jose  had 
reared  a  large  family  in  comfort  and 
some  elegance.  The  house  was  similar 
to  ours,  the  parlor  furnished  in  much 
the  same  style  as  my  Grandmother 
Smith's,  with  the  addition  of  a  pretty 
carpet  of  home  construction  in  the 
centre  of  the  floor.  The  arm  chairs 
were  also  decorated  with  wrought  cush- 
ion covers,  and  a  pair  of  worked  hold- 
ers hung  on  either  side  of  the  fireplace, 
these  ornaments  being  the  handiwork 
of  deft  Mollie  Johnson  before  her  mar- 


10 


riage.  At  this  time  only  two  daugh- 
ters had  left  the  paternal  roof  tree. 
Three  sons  and  four  daughters,  with 
two  or  three  apprentices,  (my  grand- 
father carried  on  shoe  business  in  addi- 
to  his  farming),  made  a  large,  but 
pleasant  and  orderly  household. 

Father  and  mother,  grandsir,  grand- 
ma'am  and  Uncle  Bill  went  to  meeting. 
Aunt  Betsy  and  Aunt  Judy  remained 
at  home,  ostensibly  to  get  the  dinner, 
but  they  were  so  bus}'  preparing  for  a 
party  to  which  they  had  been  invited 
for  the  evening  that  most  of  the  cook- 
ing fell  upon  the  younger,  but  more 
quiet  and  staid,  Aunt  Sukey.  Rolick- 
ing  Aunt  Hannah,  a  girl  of  eight  or 
nine,  ran  hither  and  thither,  poking  fun 
and  helping  everybody.  Seizing  the 
broom,  she  drew  the  freshly-strewn 
sand  on  the  kitchen  floor  into  a  remark- 
able combination  of  zig-zags.  Next 
she  fell  to  basting  the  turkey,  roast- 
ing on  a  spit,  which  rested  on  brackets 
on  the  tall  iron  andirons,  flourish- 
ing the  long-handled  butter  ladle  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  call  forth  the  an- 
imadversions of  Aunt  Sukey,  who  de- 
clared that  she  would  have  the  drip- 
pings, which  fell  into  a  pan  beneath, 
"  all  over  her  clean  hearth." 

Uncle  Ben,  a  lad  of  twelve,  brought 
wood  and  did  other  chores,  meanwhile 
playing  so  many  practical  jokes  on  his 
gay  elder  sisters  that  the}*  laughingly 
threatened  to  turn  him  out  of  the 
house.  Roly-Poly  Uncle  Joe,  only 
three  years  my  senior,  sat  beside  me  on 
the  form  in  the  corner,  where,  with 
great  glee,  we  watched  the  proceedings 
of  our  elders.  The  merry  forenoon 
glided  away.  The  hands  of  the  tall 
clock  in  the  corner  of  the  room  pointed 
to  twelve.  Aunt  Hannah  set  the  table 
with  the  best  napery  and  ware,  the 


pickles  and  apple-sauce  were  brought, 
the  cider  drawn,  and  the  chafing  dish 
filled,  ready  to  put  on  the  table  to  keep 
the  gravy  hot.  How  long  those  expect- 
ant moments  seemed  !  Uncle  Joe  and  I 
ensconced  ourselves  at  the  window, 
while  Aunt  Hannah  zealously  basted 
the  turkey,  with  the  wish  that  Parson 
Toppan  would  end  that  "everlasting 
samion."  At  length  the  sleighs  ap- 
peared. There  had  been  a  fall  of  snow 
—  the  first  of  the  season  —  the  night 
before,  and  it  was  pretty  good  sleigh- 
ing. The  party  entered,  accompanied 
by  Aunt  Nannie,  the  second  daughter, 
and  her  husband,  Mr.  John  Peabody. 
This  young  man  was  descended  from 
Lieut.  Francis  Peabody,  born  at  St.  Al- 
bans,  Hartfordshire,  England,  in  1614. 
He  came  to  New  England  in  the  ship 
Planter,  Nicholas  Frarcie,  master,  in 
1635.  Mr.  Peabody  first  resided  at 
Ipswich.  In  1638  he  went  to  Hamp- 
ton, N.  H.,  with  the  Rev.  Stephen 
Bachilar  and  twelve  others.  He  was 
made  a  freeman  in  1642.  and  in  1649 
was  chosen,  by  the  town  of  Hampton, 
one  of  the  three  men  • '  to  ende  small 
causes",  and  was  confirmed  in  that 
office  by  the  justices  of  that  court. 
"Being  minded  to  live  nearer  Boston," 
he  sold  his  estate  in  Hampton  and  pur- 
chased a  farm  in  Topsfield,  and  became 
a  large  landholder  in  Topsfield,  Box- 
ford  and  Rowley.  He  set  up  the  first 
mill  in  Topsfield.  on  a  stream  that  flows 
past  the  spot  where  he  lived.  Lieut. 
Peabody  was  a  man  of  great  capacity 
and  influence.  His  wife  was  a  daugh- 
ter of  Reginald  Foster,  whose  family 
is  honorably  mentioned  in  "Marmion" 
and  -The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel". 
He  died  February  19,  1697  or  1698. 
His  widow  died  April  9,  1705.  Chil- 
dren :  John,  Joseph,  William,  Isaac ; 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


11 


Sarah  m.  How  of  Ipswich ;  Hepsibah 
m.  Rea  of  Salem  Village  ;  Lydia  m. 
Jacob  Perley  ;  Maiy  m.  John  Death  of 
Framingham ;  Ruth  died  before  her 
father ;  Damaris  died  Dec.  19,  1G60  ; 
Samuel  died  Sept.  13,  1677;  Jacob 
d.  in  1664  ;  Hannah  d.  before  her  fath- 
er ;  Nathaniel  d.  in  1715  without  chil- 
dren. Of  this  large  family  three  sons 
settled  in  Boxford,  and  two  remained  in 
Topsfield.  The  Peabodys  have  been  a 
patriotic  and  brave  race.  Two  officers 
and  two  privates  served  in  the  French 
war.  Lieut.  Jacob  Peabody  fell  on  the 
plains  of  Abraham  in  1759.  Six  offi- 
cers, one  chaplain,  a  surgeon,  and  as- 
sistant surgeon,  a  1st  officer  in  marine 
service,  and  five  privates  rendered  mil- 
itary service  during  the  Revolution. 
Capt.  Richard  Peabody  commanded  a 
company  in  the  Continental  amry,  and 
sent  his  sons  to  war  as  fast  as  he  was 
able.  Nathaniel  Peabody  of  Atkinson, 
N.  H.,  commanded  a  regiment  in  the 
war  of  the  Revolution,  and  subsequent- 
ly represented  his  state  in  the  Conti- 
nental Congress.  Amongst  the  clergy 
the  Peabodys  count  many  eminent  men. 
The  Rev.  Oliver  Peabod}*,  who  died  in 
Natick ;  the  twin  brothers,  William 
Oliver  Bourne  and  Oliver  William 
Bourne ;  Rev.  David  Peabody,  profes- 
soa  in  the  college  at  Hanover ;  Rev. 
Andrew  P.  Peabody  D.  D.,  professor 
of  ^Harvard  University,  and  Rev.  Eph- 
raim  Peabody  of  Boston.  Professor 
Silliman  of  Yale  College,  descended 
from  a  Peabody.  In  medicine,  law 
and  the  various  walks  of  life,  the  fam- 
ily reputation  has  been  ably  sustained. 
Capt.  John,  the  oldest  son  of  Lieut. 
Francis  Peabody,  lived  in  Boxford, 
was  made  a  freeman  in  1674,  represen- 
tative from  1689  to  1691.  He  married 
first,  Hannah  Andrews  ;  second,  Surah 


Mosely.  He  died  in  1720  aged  78. 
Children  :  John  ;  Thomas  ;  Mary  mar- 
ried Richard  Hazen  ;  Lydia  m.  Jacob 
Perley ;  David  born  July  12,  1672 ; 
Elizabeth  m.  David  Andrew  ;  Nathan  ; 
Hannah  m.  Jos.  Buckman  ;  Ruth'  m. 
John  Wood  of  Boxford  ;  Moses.  En- 
sign David  Peabody  m.  Sarah  Pope  of 
Dartmouth.  He  lived  in  Boxford,  died 
April  1,  1726  aged  48.  His  widow  d. 
Sept.  29,  1756,  aged  72.  Children: 
Thomas  ;  Hannah  m.  Jona.  Fuller  ol 
Sutton  ;  Sarah  m.  Daniel  Wood  ;  Mer- 
cy, d.  Sept.  26,  1793  ;  John  ;  Debo- 
rah, d.  Aug.  21,  1736  ;  Rebecca,  m. 
Richard  Dexter ;  Susanna,  d.  Oct. 
1794;  David,  born  Oct.  4,  1724;  Ma- 
ry, d.  in  1736  ;  David  Peabody  m.  Ma- 
ry Gaines  of  Ipswich,  and  settled  on  a 
farm  in  Andover.  Having  become  a 
zealous  member  of  the  Baptist  com- 
munion, he  moved  to  Haverhifl,  where 
a  church  of  that  denomination  had 
been  established.  A  short  time  after 
his  removal  he  died,  on  Aug.  16,  1774, 
aged  50.  His  widow  died  in  New- 
buryport,  at  the  residence  of  her  son- 
in-law,  Mr.  Leonard  Smith,  April, 
1806,  aged  77.  Children:  Lucy  m. 
Peter  Middleton,  lived  in  Haverhill 
and  Bradford  ;  David  d.  in  the  West  In- 
dies ;  Sarah  m.  Leonard  Smith ;  Mary 
m.  William  Farmer  of  Bradford ;  Ju- 
dith m.  William  Butler,  lived  in  New- 
buryport ;  Thomas  m.  Judith  daughter 
of  Jeremiah  and  Judith  (Spofford) 
Dodge.  These  were  the  parents  of 
David,  George,  the  well-known  bank- 
er; and  Jeremiah  Dodge  Peabody  of 
Ohio.  Deborah  m.  James  Becket,  re- 
sided in  Salem;  Abigail  in  1765,  m. 
Edmund  Greenleaf  of  Newburyport ; 
John  born  Feb  22,  1768 ;  Josiah 
Gaines  m.  Edna  Greenough,  resided  in 
Porstmouth.  Mrs.  David  Peabody  at 


12 


REMINISCENCES 


her  husband's  death,  was  left  with  this 
large  family  of  young  children.  John 
was  apprenticed  to  learn  the  trade  of 
a  shoe-maker  to  Mr.  Josiah  Bartlett  of 
Newbury.  Upon  coming  of  age  he  es- 
tablished himself  at  the  main  road.  In 
addition  to  the  shoe  trade,  he  set  up  a 
general  furnishing  store.  March  30, 
1791,  he  married  Anna,  second  daugh- 
ter of  Joseph  and  Mary  (Johnson) 
Little,  of  Newbury.  The  }roung  couple 
set  up  housekeeping  in  a  house  contig- 
uous to  the  shop,  which  stood  next  be- 
low the  residence  of  Dea.  John  Osgood. 
The  Peabodys  date  back  to  Boadie,  a 
gallant  British  chieftain,  who,  in  the 
year  A.  D.  61,  came  to  the  rescue  of 
his  noble  and  chivalrous  Queen  and 
kinswoman,  Boadicea,  when  "bleeding 
from  the  Roman  rods."  From  the  dis- 
astrous battle  in  which  she  lost  her 
crown  and  life,  he  fled  to  the  Cambrian 
mountains,  in  Wales.  There  his  pos- 
terity lived  and  became  a  terror  to  the 
Lowlands.  From  their  frequent  raids 
into  the  Roman  territory,  he  was  desig- 
nated Pea  Bodie  (Mountain  Man  ;  Pea 
signifying  mountain,  and  Bodie  man). 
Some  members  of  the  family  retained 
the  British  name,  Peabody ;  others  an- 
glicysed  it  into  Hillman,  some  as  the 
German  Bergmann,  while  others  divid- 
ed it  into  its  constituents,  thus  origin- 
ating the  names  of  Hill  and  Mann. 
There  was  a  Peabody  among  the 
-Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  the  name 
being  registered  with  due  heraldric 
honors,  by  command  of  King  Arthur. 
Boadie,  with  his  own  hand,  killed 
Galbuta,  a  distinguished  Roman  gener- 
al, and,  following  the  custom  of  assum- 
ing the  arms  of  the  vanquished  if  he 
were  a  person  of  note,  Boadie  copied 
the  two  suns  proper  from  the  armor  of 


Galbuta  and  adopted  them  as  his  own 
arms. 


PARTY  PER  FESS  NEBUI.E,  GULES,  AZURE, 

TWO   SUNS   PROPER.  WITH   A  GARB, 

CREST    AND    EAGLE. 

Dinner  was  immediately  set  upon  the 
table.  Grace  having  been  said,  due 
justice  was  given  to  the  turkey  and  plum 
pudding.  Aunt  Sukey  receiA'ed  many 
encomiums  upon  her  cooking,  part  of 
which  Aunt  Hannah  declared  she  should 
appropriate.  "  Sukey  never  would 
have  basted  that  turkey  as  I  did,  for 
fear  of  injuring  her  fine  complexion." 
Then  the  wild  little  minx,  as  her  sisters 
termed  her,  fell  to  clearing  the  table, 
having  first  stirred  the  kettle  of  boiling 
dish-water  with  the  knives  and  forks, 
"in  order  that  it  should  not  boil  away 
the  beaux."  The  girls  washed  the  din- 
ner things  ;  the  others  repaired  to  the 
"fore  room",  where  Uncle  Ben  had  a 
bright  fire  blazing  across  the  shiny 
black  fire-dogs,  with  nigger  faces,  which 
my  roguish  young  uncle  wished  me  to 
admire.  Aunt  Hannah  called  me  to  go 
with  her  up  stairs,  to  see  the  girls 
dress. 

When  Nannie  was  married,  their 
father  had  given  his  two  next  oldest 
daughters  silk  dresses.  This  had 
called  forth  severe  animadversion  from 
his  sisters.  "To  think  of  Brother 


OF   A 


13 


Jose's  extravagance ;  and  he  had 
bought  all  of  them,  but  Hanner,  gold 
necklaces,  ear-drops  and  a  finger  ring  ! 
Well,  they  allers  said  he  never  could 
be  forehanded  when  he  married  Mollie 
Johnson,  she  was  so  high  bred  and  had 
so  much  'Port'  company."  These  and 
similar  speeches,  which,  somehow,  al- 
wa}'s  got  reported  to  the  subject  of 
them,  caused  my  grandfather's  family 
much  diversion.  Miss  Betty  Brad- 
street,  a  wealthy  cousin  of  my  grand- 
mother, a  maiden  lady,  and  a  resident 
of  the  "Port",  had  upon  a  recent  visit 
brought  my  two  aunts  each  a  brooch  to 
match  theii\;tear-drops,  and  the  girls 
made  themselves  very  meriy  over  what 
their  father's  sisters  would  say  to  this 
addition  to  their  finery,  each  devoutly 
hoping  that  they  would  never  know  but 
their  brother  had  purchased  them. 
The  brown  silks  were  vastly  becoming. 
They  were  made  with  full  skirts,  tight 
waists,  low  square  necks,  with  tight 
sleeves  reaching  just  below  the  elbow, 
finished  by  a  ruflie,  with  an  under  one 
of  lace.  The  neck  was  covered  by  a 
square  white  muslin  handkerchief,  doub- 
led and  tucked  under  the  dress,  im- 
mensely puffed  out  in  front,  long  black 
net  mitts  covered  the  hands  and  arms, 
and  when  the  jewelry  was  added,  to  my 
childish  eyes  my  two  girlish  aunts  pre- 
sented the  very  acme  ot  splendor. 

My  mother  and  aunts  were  ver}'  hand- 
some women.  Never  did  six  sisters 
more  closely  resemble  each  other.  I 
have  often  heard  it  remarked,  that  in 
after  years,  when  dressed  alike  in 
mourning,  at  a  funeral,  it  was  difficult 
to  distinguish  one  from  another.  I 
would  that  their  portraits  were  extant ; 
they  would  form  a  rare  galaxy  of 
beauty.  Of  medium  hight,  trim  fig- 
ures, small  hands  and  feet,  black 


hair  and  eyes  (with  the  exception  of 
Nannie's,  whose  were  deep  blue) ,  fair 
skin,  cherry  lips,  white  teeth,  a  brilliant 
color,  the  eyes  sparkling,  with  much  ex- 
pression in  conversation,  a  lively  mien, 
tempered  by  much  grace  and  sensibili- 
ty, great  courtesy  and  kindness  of 
heart — little  wonder  that  the  six  Little 
girls  should  become  the  reigning  toasts 
of  the  period.  Their  toilets  completed, 
my  aunts  joined  the  rest  in  the  parlor. 
Nuts  were  cracked,  apples  roasted,  a 
mug  of  flip  was  made,  songs  sung  and 
stories  told.  At  dusk  father  went  home 
to  do  his  chores  ;  soon  after,  Amos  Chase 
and  Stephen  Bartlett  came  to  take  their 
affianced  to  the  party.  These  young 
gentlemen  were  amiyed  in  blue  coats, 
with  brass  buttons,  buff  vests,  satin 
breeches,  silk  stockings,  silver  knee  and 
shoe  buckles,  their  hair  frizzled,  pow- 
dered and  cued. 

The  evening's  entertainment  was  at 
Deacon  Tenuey's.  Mrs.  Tenney,  my 
father's  eldest  sister,  like  my  grand- 
mother Little,  had  a  house  full  of  girls. 
The  deacon,  though  honoring  his  office, 
was  the  prince  of  hospitality,  and  an  in- 
vitation to  his  house  gave  occasion  for 
much  satisfaction.  After  the  young 
people  had  gone,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Pea- 
body  and  Uncle  Bill  having  accompan- 
ied them,  grandsir,  grandma'm  and  my 
mother  drew  round  the  fire  for  a  quiet 
chat.  We  children  went  into  the  kitch- 
en to  play  blind  man's  buff,  aunt  Su- 
key,  much  to  our  delight,  condescending 
to  join  in  the  sport.  At  seven  o'clock, 
my  father  having  returned,  supper  was 
served.  Soon  after,  as  my  eyelids,  not- 
withstanding strenuous  exertions  to  the 
contrary,  would  shut,  mother  declared 
it  was  time  for  home. 

The  next  da}'  we  dined  and  spent  the 
evening  in  my  grandmother  Smith's 


14 


REMINISCENCES 


room.  Uncle  and  aunt  Thurrell  came 
to  tea,  and  other  neighboring  relatives 
dropped  in  for  the  evening.  Saturday 
afternoon  mother  had  company,  but  as 
Saturday  night  was  considered  holy 
time,  they  left  at  an  early  hour.  The 
next  week  was  one  continued  festival. 
Visiting  was  general  throughout  the 
parish.  Each  one's  skill  in  cooking 
was  discussed,  and  the  merits  of  differ- 
ent persons'  mince  pies  and  plum  cake 
pronounced.  Nor  was  the  visiting  con- 
fined to  the  females,  the  gentlemen  of- 
ten came  alone.  Two  of  four  neigh- 
bors for  j'ears  made  it  a  practice  to 
come  together  to  take  tea  with  us  the 
week  following  Thanksgiving.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  gusto  with  which  they 
demolished  the  huge  piles  of  dipped 
toast,  or  the  way  they  smacked  their 
lips  over  the  pies  and  cake,  all  the 
while  declaring  "that  for  cooking,  little 
Prudy  Smith  bore  the  palm." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Puritan  Sabbath  commenced  at 
sunset  Saturday  night — a  literal  inter- 
pretation of  the  scripture  text  "And 
the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the 
first  day."  Supper  eaten,  silence  and 
rest  settled  over  the  household.  To 
most  this  was  a  grateful  period  of  re- 
pose, in  which,  in  the  long  evenings, 
they  were  only  to  happy  too  fold  their 
hands  and  doze  away  the  hours  till  the 
early  bedtime,  eight  o'clock  being  the 
usual  hour  for  retiring  on  that  night. 
Others  were  glad  of  this  leisure  for  read- 
ing, but  many  could  not  have  been  in- 
duced to  peruse  anything  save  the  Bible, 
psalm  book,  a  sermon  or  some  religious 
treatise.  My  father  and  mother  were 


less  strict.  Father  usually  passed  the 
time  in  conning  the  columns  of  the 
"Independent  Chronicle  and  Universal 
Advertiser,"  a  weekly  sheet  of  small 
size,  printed  by  "Nathaniel  AVillis. 
Boston,  opposite  the  New  Court 
House,"  which  was  taken  conjointly 
with  Uncle  Amos  Dole.  In  1793 
"The  Impartial  Herald,"  (  Newbury- 
port  Herald)  was  established  in  New- 
buryport. 

Deacon  Tenney  had  a  thriving  tobac- 
conist business,  and  he  went  to  Boston 
two  or  three  times  a  month,  with  snuff 
and  cigars  ;  upon  his  return  he  usually 
brought  some  reading  matter.  This 
was  a  rare  treat,  especially  to  my  moth- 
er. Saturday  evening  was  an  oasis  in 
her  life  of  toil ;  the  one  space  of  soul 
refreshment  eagerly  anticipated  through 
the  week,  but  I  fear  her  studies  would 
not  always  have  been  pronounced  can- 
onical. Great-grandfather  Johnson's 
3'oungest  daughter  married  Master  Si- 
mon Chase,  a  school  teacher  of  much 
renown,  and  a  man  devoted  to  litera- 
ture. Besides  man}*  books  of  his  own, 
to  which  he  was  constantly  adding,  he 
had,  through  his  wife,  come  into  poses- 
sion  of  most  of  her  father's  library. 
This  couple  resided  in  the  former  par- 
sonage, even'thing  still  remaining  as  it 
had  been  in  the  minister's  lifetime. 
Mother,  being  a  frequent  visitor  at  her 
aunt  Hannah's,  was  usually  supplied 
with  a  book  from  their  shelves,  and 
father  sometimes  brought  her  one  of  the 
love-laden  romances  of  the  period, 
loaned  to  her  by  some  of  her  "Port" 
friends. 

Sunday,  if  in  health,  everybody  was 
expected  to  attend  public  worship.  In 
warm  weather,  grandmother  and  Aunt 
Sarah  drove  together  in  the  square 
topped  chaise.  Uncle  Enoch  usually 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


15 


walked  ;  my  father  rode  on  his  hand- 
some horse,  my  mother  riding  on  the 
pillion  behind  him.  At  a  very  early 
age,  as  I  was  a  quiet  little  girl,  much 
to  my  jo}r  I  was  permitted  to  go  to 
meeting,  and  usually  rode  between  my 
grandmother  and  aunt  in  the  chaise,  but 
sometimes  was  perched  on  mother's 
lap,  a  ride  I  vastly  enjoyed,  espescially 
if  father  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop. 

Never  shall  I  forget  my  first  advent 
at  meeting.  Great  had  been  the  prep- 
aration for  this  public  appearance,  for 
mother  had  a  good  share  of  wholesome 
sort  of  pride,  and,  as  was  natural  for 
a  youthful  matron,  wished  her  little 
daughter  to  look  as  prett}'  as  possible. 
Grandmother  Little  owned  a  famously 
embroidered,  linen  cambric  christening 
frock,  and  this  garment  having  done  ser- 
vice at  all  the  baptisms,  was  now  remod- 
elled for  my  Sunday  dress.  Mother  con- 
structed a  tasty  green  silk  bonnet,  and 
Grandfather  Little  presented  a  pair  of 
red  shoes,  of  his  own  make. 

The  meeting  house,  a  square,  weather 
embrowned  structure,  without  steeple 
or  bell,  crowned  a  high  hill,  up  which  a 
stony  road  wound  in  steep  ascent.  A 
horse  block  for  the  convenience  of  the 
pillion  riders  stood  by  the  front  steps, 
and  a  long  row  of  low  sheds,  shelter  for 
the  horses,  extended  to  the  left.  The 
interior  was  a  handsome  specimen 
of  the  ecclesiastical  architecture  of  the 
period.  The  wide  front  door  led 
through  a  broad  aisle  to  a  high  pulpit 
furnished  with  green  cushions.  A 
sounding  board  depended  from  the  ceil- 
ing above,  and  the  communion  table 
stood  in  front.  A  sounding  board  usu- 
ally was  about  eight  feet  in  diameter, 
and  shaped  like  an  inverted  wine-glass 
flattened  toward  the  brim ;  it  hung 
some  six  feet  above  the  pulpit  cushion. 


Generally  this  adjunct  to  the  sacred 
desk  displa}red  gracefulness  of  design 
and  beaut}'  of  decoration.  A  circular 
moulding  enclosed  the  suspending  rod 
where  it  entered  the  ceiling.  This  ap- 
pendage was  to  aid  the  speaker  by 
equally  diffusing  the  sound  of  the  voice 
in  every  part  of  the  building. 

The  broad  aisle  was  intersected  by  a 
narrower  one,  into  which  side  entrances 
opened.  Another  aisle  ran  around  the 
edifice,  separating  the  wall  pews  from 
those  in  the  body  of  the  house.  These 
pews  were  enclosed  by  handsomely 
turned  balusters.  Front  of  the  pulpit 
were  rows  of  seats,  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  those  wishing  to  be  near 
the  preacher,  or  elderly  persons  who 
were  not  pew  holders.  The  benches  to 
the  right  were  for  females,  those  to  the 
left  for  males.  The  singers  occupied 
the  front  gallery,  to  which  a  flight  of 
stairs  led  each  side  of  the  front  door. 
The  side  galleries  were  furnished  with 
one  long  pew,  extending  the  length  of 
the  wall ;  the  space  in  front  was  filled 
with  benches.  The  wall  pew  to  the 
right  was  set  apart  for  the  young  wom- 
en ;  girls  occupied  the  centre  tier  of 
benches,  while  the  front  was  filled  by 
middle-aged  women.  The  opposite  gal- 
lery was  similarly  occupied  by  young 
men  in  the  wall  pew,  boys  and  men  on 
the  benches.  The  large,  square  pews, 
in  addition  to  the  seats,  were  furnished 
with  one  or  two  high-backed  chairs, 
which  stood  in  the  centre.  These  were 
commonly  of  rich  wood,  handsomely 
carved,  with  flag  seats.  These  chairs 
were  the  posts  of  honor,  and  were  usu- 
ally occupied  by  elderly  ladies.  Be- 
sides the  chairs,  there  was  generally 
one  or  more  high  stools,  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  more  infantile  portion 
of  the  congregation.  Ours  was  a  wall 


16 


REMINISCENCES 


pew,  the  second  to  the  right  from  the 
front  door.  My  grandmother  led  me 
in  and  placed  me  on  a  stool  beside  her 
chair.  Mother,  somewhat  flustered, 
but  looking  proud  and  pleased,  seated 
herself  behind  me,  and  Aunt  Sarah 
fidgeted  around,  placing  the  highest 
footstool  beneath  my  feet.  How  vast 
and  splendid  everything  seemed!  At 
length  I  began  to  take  in  details  and 
recognize  my  relatives  and  acquaint- 
ances. There  were  Grandsir's  and 
Uncle  John  Little's  pew  ;  Uncle  Thur- 
rell's  ;  the  Doles' ;  those  of  Aunt  Sara, 
Col.  Thomas  ;  Mr.  Stephen  and  Enoch 
Noyes,  Deacon  Osgood,  Mr.  Newell, 
the  Emerys,  Carrs,  Bartletts,  Follans- 
bees,  Baileys,  Uncle  John  and  Deacon 
Abel  Merrill,  Dr.  Sawyer  ;  the  parson- 
age pew,  to  the  left  of  the  pulpit ;  those 
of  the  Plummers,  Woodmans,  Chases, 
Ilsleys,  Bricketts,  Hills,  Adamses, 
Carletons  and  Jaques.  The  pew  match- 
ing that  of  the  parsonage,  to  the  right  of 
the  pulpit,  had  several  owners,  and  bore 
the  designation  of  ''Everybody's  pew". 
Elderly  women  in  close,  black  silk  bon- 
nets, and  thick  silks  or  bright  chintzes, 
quietly  seated  themselves, with  demure, 
"Sabba'  day"  faces.  More  youthful 
matrons  and  maidens  glided  in,  radiant 
in  lighter  silks,  white  muslins  or  cam- 
bric calicoes,  and  silk  hats  of  various 
hues,  gail}"  trimmed  with  ribbons,  flow- 
ers or  long,  waving  plumes.  Little 
folks,  like  myself,  stared  about,  or 
twirled  the  balusters  of  the  pews. 
The  three  deacons — Tenney,  Merrill 
and  Osgood — entered  and  took  their 
places  beneath  the  pulpit.  Par- 
son Toppan,  in  his  black  gown  and 
white  bands,  accompanied  by  his  wife 
and  family,  walked  majestically  up  the 
broad  aisle.  There  was  the  clatter  of 
many  feet,  as  the  minister's  entrance 


was  the  signal  for  the  men  and  boys 
who  had  been  grouped  around  the 
meeting-house,  to  come  in.  Tithing- 
man  Tewkesbury,  his  long  pole  in  hand, 
took  his  place  amidst  the  boys  in  the 
gallery  ;  Sexton  Cooper  tip-toed  to  his 
seat  on  the  pulpit  stairs.  Parson  Top- 
pan  rose  and  read  two  lines  of  a  psalm  ; 
Deacon  Osgood  stepped  forward  and 
repeated  them ;  mother's  cousin,  Ed- 
mund Little,  with  a  pitch-pipe,  set  the 
tune  ;  the  choir  sang  the  lines  ;  the  two 
next  were  given  out,  and  thus  the 
psalm  was  sung.  This  was  followed 
by  a  long  prayer  and  a  longer  sermon. 
The  benediction  pronounced,  there  was 
a  moment's  pause  ;  then  the  minister 
descended  from  the  pulpit,  took  his 
wife  upon  his  arm,  and,  followed  by  his 
children,  proceeded  down  the  aisle,  the 
clerical  cortege  gracefully  returning  the 
respectful  bows  and  courtsies  of  the 
congregation.  The  clergyman's  family 
was  followed  by  the  more  aristocratic 
persons  from  the  pews ;  these  by  the 
remainder  of  the  audience.  Many  peo- 
ple, especially  in  cold  weather,  took 
their  dinner,  and  staid  at  the  meeting- 
house during  the  short  intermission. 
In  winter  Ave  rode  in  the  large,  high- 
backed  sleigh.  Sometimes,  when  storm 
and  wind  had  prevented  the  breaking 
of  the  paths,  father  and  Uncle  Enoch 
walked  to  meeting  on  their  snow  shoes, 
and  Mr.  Josiah  Bartlett  would  yoke 
his  oxen  and  take  his  large  faniily 
thither  on  the  sled. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  fourth  parish  in  Newbury,  like 
its  predecessor  at  the  river  side,  and 
the  parent  societ}'  at  Old  town,  belong- 


OF   A  NOKAGEXAKLAJST. 


17 


ed  to  what  might  be  termed,  the  low 
church  wing  of  Congregationalism. 
The  Rev.  William  Johnson  had  been 
strongly  opposed  to  the  more  rigid 
views  of  some  of  his  brethren  in  the 
ministry.  He  would  not  admit  the  re- 
nowned Whitefield  into  his  pulpit,  and 
the  great  revivalist  was  obliged  to 
preach  in  a  private  house. 

I  have  often  heard  my  great  aunt 
Sara  Noyes  describe  the  sensation  pro- 
duced by  the  eloquent  divine.  My 
greatgrandfather,  Deacon  John  Noyes, 
fully  sympathized  in  the  disapproval 
evinced  by  his  pastor,  and  he  issued  a 
strict  edict  forbidding  any  of  his  fam- 
ily attending  what  he  termed  "those 
disorderly  assemblies."  Aunt  Sara, 
then  a  girl  in  her  teens,  entertained,  as 
was  natural,  a  strong  desire  to  see  and 
hear  one  whose  name  was  on  every 
tongue,  and  whose  words  and  their 
effects  were  the  chief  topics  of  conver- 
sation on  every  side.  At  last,  after 
much  fear  and  trembling,  she  musr 
tered  courage  to  make  a  clandes- 
tine attempt  to  satisfy  her  curiosity. 
An  evening  meeting  was  to  be 
held  at  a  house  in  the  vicinity, 
and  she  determined  to  brave  her  fath- 
er's displeasure,  if  her  absence  was 
discovered,  and  go.  It  was  a  dark, 
cheerless  night,  when,  with  a  throbbing 
heart,  stealing  down  the  stairs  and 
noiselessly  opening  the  door,  she  ran 
lightly  down  the  gravel'  walk.  Her 
hand  was  on  the  latch  of  the  front 
gate,  when  a  voice,  in  an  authoritative 
tone,  exclaimed ' '  Go  back  ! "  •  Startled, 
affrighted,  she  stopped,  turned,  and 
peered  on  all  sides  into  the  darkness. 
No  one  was  in  sight.  Through  the  un- 
curtained window  she  could  see  her 
father  and  the  other  members  of  her 
family  seated  around  the  bright  wood 

3 


fire.  Concluding  that,  owing  to  the 
nervous  timidity  which  this  disobedi- 
ence to  paternal  mandates  had  caused, 
imagination  had  conjured  up  this  voice, 
with  another  long1  and  searching  look 
around,  she  opened  the  gate.  "  Go 
back  !  "  reiterated  the  voice,  even  more 
decidedly  than  at  first,  just  in  her  ear. 
What  could  it  mean?  Again  she 
stopped,  waited,  looked  and  listened. 
Nothing  unusual  could  be  seen,  and 
not  a  sound  could  be  heard  save  the 
wind  sighing  through  the  trees.  Sara 
Noyes  was  a  resolute  girl,  not  easily 
turned  from  any  purpose  she  had  de- 
liberately formed,  neither  had  she  much 
belief  in  the  supernatural.  Thrusting 
back  her  fears,  with  a  strong  will  she 
stilled  her  throbbing  heart,  and  with  a 
firm  step,  she  again  started  forward. 
"Go  back,  go  back,"  thundered  the 
voice,  in  such  a  powerful  and  author- 
itative tone,  that,  thrilling  in  every 
nerve,  the  astonished  girl,  completely 
subdued,  hastily  turned,  and  fled  into 
the  house.  Though  she  lived  to  a  great 
age,  and  could  never  be  reckoned  a 
credulous  person,  to  the  last  hour  of 
her  life  she  firmly  believed  that  this  was 
a  Divine  interposition  to  keep  her  from 
evil. 

The  Rev.  David  Toppan,  the  succes- 
sor of  the  Rev.  William  Johnson,  enter- 
tained even  more  liberal  tenets  than 
his  predecessor.  A  genial,  courteous 
gentleman,  ready  to  sympathize  with 
his  charge,  in  their  various  phases  of 
weal  and  woe.  Parson  Toppan  was  a 
universal  favorite.  His  marriage  with 
a  towns- woman,  Miss  Mary  Sawyer, 
the  daughter  of  Dr.  Enoch  Sawyer, 
drew  him  still  nearer  to  the  hearts  of  his, 
people. 

The  intelligence  that  their  pastor 
contemplated  leaving  for  a  professor- 


18 


ship  at  Harvard,  which  began  to  be 
circulated  in  the  spring  of  1792, 
brought  both  consternation  and  grief. 
It  could  not  be.  A  minister  ought  to 
live  and  die  amidst  the  people  over 
which  he  had  been  ordained.  After 
many  contradictory  rumors  the  matter 
became  at  length  decided.  At  the 
Thursday  lecture,  Parson  Toppan,  after 
a  brief  summary  of  the  conflicting 
opinions  then  agitating  the  churches, 
announced  the  invitation  he  had  re- 
ceived to  a  professorship  at  the  college 
at  Cambridge,  and  his  intention  of  ac- 
cepting it.  "This  decision  had  been 
made  after  much  hesitation  and  prayer- 
ful consideration.  Heresy  was  creep- 
ing into  the  institution,  and  it  was  in- 
cumbent upon  every  one  to  put  forth 
their  full  power  in  support  of  sound 
doctrine.  Neither  the  honor  nor  the 
emolument  had  borne  a  feather's  weight 
in  this  separation  from  his  beloved 
charge,  but  what  he  considered  a  call 
to  a  higher  duty,  gave  him  no  option 
but  to  obey."  At  these  words,  up  jump- 
ed old  Mr.  Moses  Newell,  and  with 
ire  imprinted  on  his  countenance,  shak- 
ing his  clenched  fist  at  his  pastor,  he 
shouted,  "you  lie,  Parson  Toppan,  you 
know  3'ou  lie."  Instantly  the  congre- 
gation was  in  commotion,  but  the  min- 
ister by  his  quiet  demeanor  and  calm 
tones  quelled  the  tumult ;  order  was 
restored,  Mr.  Toppan  closed  the  servi- 
ces, and  the  audience  dispersed  with 
sorrow  in  their  hearts,  and  grief  im- 
printed upon  their  faces,  but  with  the 
firm  conviction  that  their  pastor  was 
right ;  painful  as  this  separation  was, 
it  must  be  made ;  inclination  must  be 
sacrificed  to  duty.  Old  Mr.  Newell 
became  pacified.  His  wife  and  son  ex- 
erted themselves  to  this  end.  The  old 
gentleman  apologized,  and  invited  the 


clergyman  and  his  wife  to  dine,  with  a 
small  party  of  select  friends,  at  his 
house.  There  were  many  parting  vis- 
its, and  a  general  catechising  of  the 
children  throughout  the  parish. 

It  was  the  custom  to  hold  these  cat- 
echisings  annually,  sometime  during 
the  spring  or  summer,  usually  on  some 
afternoon  in  the  middle  of  the  week,  in 
a  house  centrally  located  in  each  school 
district.  As  Parson  Toppan  wished  to 
personally  bid  adieu  to  every  child  of 
his  large  flock,  the  catechising  was  ap- 
pointed somewhat  earlier  that  year  than 
usual.  The  children  of  our  district 
met  at  nry  grand  father  Little's.  Though 
I  was  young  to  attend,  being  a  pet  of 
the  parson's,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor 
of  the  family,  much  to  my  delight  I 
was  permitted  to  go.  With  a  throb- 
bing heart,  clinging  to  aunt  Hannah's 
hand  on  one  side  and  uncle  Joe's  on 
the  other,  I  entered  the  large  parlor 
where  sat  my  grandparents  and  older 
aunts.  Parson  Toppan  occupied  the 
large  arm  chair  which  he  drew  into  the 
centre  of  the  floor.  The  children 
ranged  in  a  line  in  front.  Having  tak- 
en our  places  the  recitations  com- 
menced. With  much  care  mother  had 
taught  me  the  "  chief  end  of  man," 
and  one  or  two  of  the  shortest  com- 
mandments. Though  terribly  flustered 
till  nry  turn  came,  when  it  was  my  time 
to  speak  I  was  so  earnest  to  repeat  the 
lesson  right  that  this  self-consciousness 
passed ;  thus  I  was  enabled  to  do  my- 
self due  credit.  The  good  minister 
and  my  grandparents  and  aunts  praised 
me,  the  elder  children  gathered  around, 
petting  and  caressing  the  smallest  and 
youngest  of  the  class.  Altogether  it 
was  as  great  a  triumph  as  I  ever  achiev- 
ed or  enjoyed.  The  catechisings  and 
parting  visits  were  over.  The  last,  sad 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


19 


Sunday  came  and  a  farewell  sermon 
was  preached,  the  last  tearful  parting 
had  passed,  and  the  upper  parish  be- 
came a  society  without  a  pastor. 

Candidates  began  to  supply  the  pul- 
pit. Once  a  mouth  one  of  the  neigh- 
boring clergymen  came  to  preach  and 
administer  the  communion.  The  Rev. 
Barnard  Tucker  of  the  Oldtown  socie- 
ty died  that  March.  His  successor, 
Rev.  Mr.  Moore,  was  not  settled  until 
about  two  years  later.  At  the  "  Port" 
at  that  period  there  were  three  socie- 
ties :  The  First  Church,  where  Parson 
Gary  had  succeeded  Dr.  Lowell,  the 
first  minister ;  the  Old  South ,  where 
the  venerable  and  sainjly  Parson  Mur- 
ray still  occupied  the  pulpit ;  and  the 
North,  where  the  Hopkinsian  Dr. 
Spring  poured  forth  his  fiery  zeal. 
There  was  also  St.  Paul's  Episcopal 
church,  of  which  Bishop  Bass  was  rec- 
tor, but  with  this  society  ours,  of 
course,  had  no  communion. 

I  well  remember  the  delight  my 
mother  always  expressed  when  Parson 
Cary  preached.  He  was  her  favorite 
minister,  but  most  of  her  town  rela- 
tions and  friends  attended  on  his  min- 
istration, and  many  of  the  halcyon  days 
of  her  maidenhood  had  been  connected 
with  this  clergyman  and  his  people. 
This  may  have  induced  an  undue  par- 
tiality, still  from  my  childish  impress- 
ion I  infer  that  Parson  Cary,  until 
broken  by  ill  health,  was  both  a  fine 
writer  and  an  eloquent  speaker. 

The  Rev.  True  Kimball  was  at  this 
time  pastor  of  the  Second  parish  in 
Newbury,  and  the  Byfield  parish  had 
recently  ordained  the  Rev.  Elijah- Par- 
ish, afterwards  the  distinguished  Fed- 
eralist divine,  whose  alpha  and  omega 
thundered  over  the  land.  His  eminent 
talents  and  commanding  eloquence  had 


then  just  begun  to  attract  public  atten- 
tion. There  was  also  Master  Smith, 
the  preceptor  of  Dummer  Academy. 
He  often  came  over  to  fill  the  pulpit 
when  other  supply  failed.  I  was  great- 
ly amused  with  this  preacher.  Short, 
stout  and  plethoric,  with  an  abrupt,  ab- 
sent air,  and  a  most  singular  pronunci- 
ation, this  gentleman  was  a  never- fail- 
ing object  for  merriment  amongst  the 
juveniles  of  the  congregation.  One  of 
his  peculiarities  was  never  closing  his 
eyes  when  in  prayer.  People  said  he 
had  acquired  the  habit  of  praying  with 
his  eyes  open  in  school,  keeping  watch 
and  ward  over  a  parcel  of  unruly  boys. 
Whatever  the  reason,  he  used  to  step 
forward  in  the  pulpit,  clasp  his  hands 
on  the  cushion,  and  in  short,  curt  tones 
exclaim:  "Ulmitty  Gud  !  "  This  was 
the  unvarjing  commencement  of  his 
opening  prayer.  The  preceptor  had 
the  reputation  of  being  a  great  linguist. 
It  was  affirmed  that  he  knew  so  many 
languages  that  he  had  partly  forgotten 
his  own.  Whether  or  no,  the  man  was 
a  great  oddity ;  one  of  those  isolated 
beings  whose  characteristics  are  wholly 
originalities. 

The  neighboring  town  of  Bradford, 
that  part  of  which  is  now  Groveland, 
also  rejoiced  in  another  somewhat  re- 
markable clergyman.  Parson  Dutch 
was  what  is  denominated  a  smart 
preacher.  He  was  also  distinguished 
for  his  equine  tastes  and  jockey  predi- 
lections. I  have  often  heard  my  father 
laugh  over  an  incident  that  occurred 
one  Sunday  about  the  time  of  which  I 
am  writing.  It  was  a  hot  summer  day, 
the  doors  of  the  meeting-house  were 
wide  open.  Parson  Dutch  had  come  to 
preach.  He  had  risen  to  open  the 
afternoon  service,  when  a  stranger, 
mounted  upon  a  superb  charger,  rode; 


20 


REMINISCENCES 


up  to  the  front  entrance.  Tying  his 
steed  opposite  the  door,  he  entered  the 
sanctuary.  Parson  Dutch,  from  the 
pulpit,  commanded  a  full  view  of  the 
horse,  and  his  audience  averred  that  he 
watched  it  "all  through  the  sermon." 
Father  said :  "  If  it  had  not  been  Sab- 
ba'  day  the  parson  would  have  proposed 
a  swap  ;  he  knew  he  longed  to  bargain. 
He  thought  he  would,  spite  of  the  day 
and  his  cloth." 

Father  Frisby,  as  he  was  universally 
denominated,  a  much-beloved  and  ven- 
erated old  man,  was  the  minister  at  the 
adjacent  town  of  Boxford.  "We  had 
many  candidates,  amongst  whom  were 
young  men  that  in  later  years  became 
"burning  and  shining  lights." 

Year  after  year  rolled  past,  and  still 
we  were  without  a  minister.  Like  the 
rest  of  New  England,  the  parish  became 
divided  in  sentiment,  part  adhering  to 
the  Arminian  tenets,  the  others  going 
over  to  what  was  called  the  Hopkiusian 
side. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  summer  I  was  four  years  old  I 
began  to  attend  school.  The  school- 
house  in  our  district  was  not  erected  unr 
til  some  years  later,  the  scholars  being 
accommodated,  up  to  that  period,  in  a 
private  house  on  the  Crane-neck  road, 
a  short  distance  below  where  the  pres- 
ent school  edifice  is  located.  My  first 
teacher,  Master  Zack.  Bacon,  was  a  na- 
tive of  Bradford.  Female  teachers 
would  then  have  been  deemed  inadmis- 
sible in  a  district  school.  It  would  not 
have  been  thought  possible  that  order 
could  be  maintained  under  feminine 
rule,  where  often  more  than  half  the 


scholars  were  unruly  boj'S,  many  of  the 
eldest  men  grown. 

The  school  was  taught  in  the  larger 
of  the  two  front  rooms,  the  remainder 
of  the  house  being  occupied  by  my 
mother's  cousin,  Edmund  Little.  We 
entered  by  the  front  door  ;  the  hats  and 
bonnets  were  hung  in  the  entry.  The 
schoolroom  was  furnished  with  a  desk 
and  a  flag-seated  chair  for  the  teacher  ; 
a  clumsy  square  board  table  stood  in 
the  centre  of  the  apartment,  surround- 
ed by  high,  wooden  benches.  Here 
were  seated  the  older  pupils ;  the 
younger  were  placed  upon  low  forms 
ranged  around  the  walls.  The  scholars 
were  divided  i$ito  four  ranks :  the 
"  Bible,"  "  Testament,"  "  Spelling 
Book"  and  "Primer"  classes.  Dil- 
worth's  spelling  book  was  the  one  then 
in  use.  The  older  scholars  studied 
arithmetic,  and  wrote.  Writing  books 
were  a  later  invention.  A  strong,  coarse 
paper  of  foolscap  size  was  then  used, 
either  in  single  sheets  or  several  stitched 
together  in  book  form.  This  paper,  be- 
ing plain,  was  ruled.  Lead  pencils  were 
then  a  thing  unknown ;  a  plummet  of 
lead  supplied  their  place.  These  plum- 
mets were  usually  of  home  construction, 
and  were  cut  in  various  devices,  to  suit 
the  taste  of  the  owner.  The  arithmet- 
ical rules  and  sums  were  also  copied  in- 
to books  kept  specially  for  that  purpose. 
Master  Bacon,  a  short,  slight  young 
man,  somewhat  of  a  dandy,  and  fresh 
from  college,  was  a  little  inclined  to 
what  is  now  denominated  "fast". 
Though  one  of  the  liveliest  and  most 
entertaining  of  mortals  out  of  school, 
within  he  maintained  a  stem  decorum, 
quite  awful  to  a  timid  novice,  like  my- 
self; but,  as  I  had  already  mastered 
my  alphabet  and  was  exceedingly  fasci- 
nated by  my  new  primer,  I  immediately 


OF  A  NOKAGENAKIAtf. 


21 


became  a  favorite  with  the  teacher. 
With  what  sadness  I  used  to  gaze  at 
that  memorable  picture  of  John  Rogers 
at  the  stake.  How  many  times  I  have 
counted  the  heads,  to  ascertain  whether 
there  were  ten  or  eleven  little  ones. 
How  my  s3Tmpathies  went  out  to  those 
poor  children  and  their  distressed  moth- 
er. 


With  what  genuine  delight  I  would 


con- 


"  In  Adam's  fall 
We  sinned  all. 
The  cat  dotli  play, 
And  after  slay." 

With  what  pride  I  would  repeat :  "Who 
was  the  first  man  ?  Adam ;  Who  was 
the  first  woman  ?  Eve  :  Who  was  the 
first  murderer?  Cain;  Who  was  the 
first  martyr  ?  Abel ; "  and  the  remain- 
der of  the  long  list  of  Biblical  biogra- 
phy. 

The  first  morning  Master  Bacon 
opened  the  school  without  prayer.  The 
scholars  reported,  and  in  the  evening 
he  was  waited  upon  by  several  of  the 
dignitaries  of  the  district,  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  the  omission.  The  gentle- 
man excused  the  oversight,  with  the 
promise  that  it  should  never  be  repeat- 
ed. Accordingly  we  scholars  were  fa- 
vored henceforth  with  an  unusually  long 
petition  morning  and  evening,  the  gen- 
tleman assuring  his  chums  that  he  had 
as  lief  pray  as  do  anything  else  for 
the  money.  Master  Bacon  taught  the 
school  for  two  years,  with  much  accept- 
ance ;  he  then  removed  to  a  wider 
sphere  of  action.  Afterward  he  emi- 
grated to  Vermont,  where  he  became  a 
leading  citizen. 

His  successor  was  Samuel  Moody 
from    the  Falls  parish.      This  gentle- 
man, a  very  handsome  and   well-brec 
young  man,  besides  being  an  excellen 
teacher,  was  proficient  as  a  violinist 


lis  fiddle  was  a  never-failing  source  of 
delight.  I  was  a  great  favorite  with 
Master  Sam.  He  always  led  me  home 
rom  school,  and  as  he  boarded  at  my 
great-uncle  John  Little's,  I  was  daily 
favored  with  a  tune. 

Master  Ned  Longfellow,  also  from 
Byfield,  next  taught  the  school.  He 
soon  after  removed  to  Maine,  where  he 
Became  distinguished.  It  is  from  this 
family  that  the  poet,  Henry  Wads  worth 
Longfellow,  is  descended. 

The  summer  I  was  eight  years  old  a 
Miss  Ruth  Emerson,  from  Hamp stead, 
N.  H.,  collected  a  select  school.  There 
were  from  twenty  to  thirty  scholars, 
mostly  girls ;  there  were  a  few  small 
bo}-s.  I  believe  the  tuition  was  but  six 
cents  a  week.  This  lady  promoted  us 
into  "  Webster's  Spelling  Book"  and 
"Webster's  Third  Part"— books  then 
just  coming  into  use.  Miss  Emerson 
was  a  most  accomplished  needlewoman, 
inducting  her  pupils  into  the  mysteries 
of  ornamental  marking  and  embroidery. 
This  fancy  work  opened  a  new  world  of 
delight.  I  became  perfectly  entranced 
over  a  sampler  that  was  much  admired, 
and  a  muslin  handkerchief,  that  I 
wrought  for  mother,  became  the  wonder 
of  the  neighborhood. 

My  father  had  purchased  the  portion 
of  the  homestead  inherited  by  his 
brother  Samuel,  and  that  gentleman, 
after  much  hesitation  and  deliberation, 
at  length  decided  upon  the  arduous  un- 
dertaking of  emigrating  to  a  new  coun- 
try. Several  of  his  wife's  relations  had 
recently  located  themselves  upon  farms 
in  Vermont.  Mrs.  Smith  was  anxious 
to  join  them.  "  She  was  tired  of  living 
in  such  an  old-settled  place,  where,  un- 
less one  possessed  a  large  farm,  for 
years  they  must  play  second  fiddle, 
screw  and  scrimp  to  secure  a  mere  com- 


22 


REMINISCENCES 


petence.  For  her  part  she  preferred  to 
go  into  the  wilderness,  where,  if  things 
were  not  as  nice,  one  lived  as  their 
neighbors.  She  had  rather  be  at 
the  'head  of  the  poor  than  the  tail 
of  the  rich.'  In  Vermont,  where 
land  was  cheap,  they  could  secure  a 
goodly  number  of  acres.  The  boys 
would  become  more  useful  every  year. 
In  time  they  could  get  forehanded ;  be 
as  well  off  as  any  one.  Then,  as  her 
husband  possessed  fine  literary  tastes 
and  some  culture,  it  opened  a  sphere 
for  his  ambition.  She  would  not  be 
surprised  if  he  became  an  influential 
and  distinguished  citizen." 

Swedenborg  affirms  that  man  posses- 
ses the  understanding,  and  woman  the 
will.  Uncle  Sam,  after  mature  consid- 
eration, could  find  no  valid  reason  for 
insubordination  to  the  feminine  will ;  a 
tract  of  land  in  the  town  of  Berlin  was 
purchased,  and  the  preparations  for  a 
removal  thither  commenced.  February 
was  the  time  set  for  the  flitting,  as  that 
mouth  usually  gave  the  best  sledding, 
a  great  desideratum  for  the  transmis- 
sion of  the  household  goods.  Such  a 
flurry  as  the  whole  family  and  all  its 
collateral  branches  were  in,  for  several 
weeks,  seldom  occurs  in  a  life-time. 
Clothing  for  a  year  or  two  in  advance 
must  be  prepared.  One  sister  cut  a 
generous  quarter  from  her  web  of  linen  ; 
another  from  her  fulled  cloth ;  a  third 
presented  blankets ;  another  relative 
gave  cloth  for  woolen  dresses,  and 
stocking  yarn.  Several  ladies,  rela- 
tives and  friends,  clubbed  together  and 
bought  a  number  of  handsome  articles 
as  parting  gifts.  There  was  a  round 
of  farewell  visits,  each  of  which  was 
turned  into  a  sewing-bee  for  the  benefit 
of  the  emigrants.  A  large  sleigh  was 
constructed,  which  was  covered  by  one 


ofthe  check  ed  woolen  coverlets  then  so 
much  used.  A  quantity  of  provisions 
was  provided,  cooked  meats  and  poul- 
try, pies,  cake,  doughnuts,  bread,  but- 
ter and  cheese  were  packed  into  a 
wooden  box ;  this,  other  luggage,  a 
feather  bed,  bedding  and  coverlets, 
were  placed  in  the  sleigh,  along  with 
the  family.  It  was  necessary  to  thus 
prepare  for  th^e  night's  accomodation, 
as  the  houses  of  entertainment  on  the 
route  were  few  in  number,  small,  and 
often  over-crowded.  The  furniture  was 
loaded  upon  two  ox-sleds.  My  father 
drove  his  sled,  to  which  was  attached 
a  3*oke  of  oxen  and  a  horse.  Mr.  Bai- 
le}r,  Aunt  Smith's  brother,  drove  the 
other  team.  Uncle  Sam  had  a  yoke  of 
oxen  forward  of  his  brother's  pair,  and 
another  relative  drove  his  four  cows. 
It  was  a  clear,  frosty  morning  when  the 
cavalcade  took  their  departure.  A  sad 
parting  to  all,  but  especially  to  me, 
as  my  cousin  Sally,  a  girl  of  my  own 
age,  and  nry  other  cousins,  had  been 
my  playmates  from  infancy.  A  lone- 
some fortnight  followed :  two  weeks 
that,  then,  appeared  as  long  as  two  years 
have  since.  To  add  to  1113*  discomfort 
and  loneliness,  my  little  brother,  like 
other  baby  boys,  toddling  into  mischief, 
contrived,  during  the  momentary  ab- 
sence of  mother,  to  pull  over  the  tea- 
kettle, which  was  standing  in  the  chim- 
ney corner,  scalding  his  right  arm  and 
hand  badly. 

Mother  went  silently  about  the  house 
with  a  worried  look.  Grandmother 
dozed  through  the  da}*s  in  her  low 
chair,  tipped  back  against  the  ceiling 
by  the  fireplace.  Aunt  Sarah  was  not 
half  as  brisk  and  cheery  as  usual,  and 
Uncle  Enoch  grew  decidedly  surly. 
Poor  little  Jim's  arm  grew  worse, 
Mother  and  Aunt  Sarah  became  anx- 


OP   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


23 


ious,  when  one  of  the  neighbors  brought 
in  Mrs.  Salter's  recipe  for  a-  burn. 
Mrs.  Salter,  a  somewhat  noted  woman 
at  the  "Port,"  had  effected  many  cures. 
It  was  concluded  to  try  the  prescrip- 
tion. A  linen  glove  and  sleeve  were 
fitted  over  the  burn ;  these  were  kept 
saturated  with  a  mixture  of  olive  oil 
and  snow  water,  beat  to  a  froth.  In 
less  than  a  week  the  sore  was  healed 
and  a  new  skin  formed.  The  sun  was 
just  setting,  on  the  twenty-first  day  of 
father's  absence  ;  I  was  dragging  little 
Jim  across  the  sanded  floor  upon  his 
tiny  sled,  when  Aunt  Sarah's  glad  tones 
reverberated  over  the  house — "  Broth- 
er Jim  's  come  ;  Brother  Jim  's  coming 
up  the  lane."  There  was  a  general 
rush  to  the  back  door.  Yes,  oh  joy ! 
there  was  father,  unyoking  his  oxen  at 
the  gate.  A  regular  jubilee  ensued. 
The  sirloin  steak  that  had  been  kept 
for  this  occasion  was  cooked ;  a  plate 
of  the  nicest  cream  toast  dipped ;  the 
best  mince  pie,  plum  cake,  doughnuts, 
cheese  and  preserves  were  placed  upon 
the  table.  Grandma'am,  Aunt  Sarah 
and  Uncle  Enoch  joined  us  at  supper. 
After  tea,  as  the  news  spread  that 
"Jim  Smith  had  got  home,"  the  neigh- 
bors flocked  in  to  hear  of  the  journey 
and  the  new  country  which  he  had  vis- 
ited. The  room  was  soon  filled,  and  a 
cordial  welcome  was  given  to  the  trav- 
eller. We  could  not  but  be  pleased  at 
the  evident  satisfaction  manifested  at 
father's  safe  return.  I  was  permitted  to 
sit  up  till  an  unwonted  hour,  to  hear  a 
description  of  the  journey  ;  of  the  slow 
progress  through  the  long,  cold  dajrs  ; 
and  the  weary  nights  at  the  small,  in- 
convenient taverns,  which  were  often  so 
crowded  that  the  males  of  the  company 
were  obliged  to  sleep  on  the  kitchen 
floor,  wrapped  in  their  coverlets.  At  the 


end  of  a  tedious  week  the  new  home 
was  reached.  One  of  Aunt  Smith's 
brothers  [lived  in  a  log  house,  roofed 
with  bark ;  with  a  stone  chimney ; 
the  other  Mr.  Bailey  had  put  up 
a  good-sized  frame  house.  The  brick 
chimney  was  built,  the  outside  fin- 
ished, and  the  floors  laid,  but  the 
rooms  were  not  partitioned.  There 
was,  however,  sufficient  space.  Quilts 
and  coverlets  were  suspended  from  the 
beams.  Uncle  Sam's  family  went  to 
housekeeping  one  side  of  the  chimney, 
while  Mr.  Bailey's  occupied  the  other 
side.  A  saw  mill  was  near ;  Uncle 
Sam  immediately  began  to  cut  timber 
and  haul  it  to  the  mill,  and  he  expect- 
ed to  get  up  a  house  and  barn  that 
would  be  tenantable  by  warm  weather. 
Father  had  not  caught  the  emigrant 
fever ;  he  was  a  home  bod}',  firmly 
attached  to  the  ancestral  acres.  "If  he 
left  Massachusetts  he  should  prefer  to 
go  South  rather  than  North.  Still, 
Vermont  was  a  fine  state  ;  a  great  grain 
and  grazing  country."  The  Baileys  had 
raised  a  large  crop  of  wheat  of  an  extra 
quality.  Father  bought  a  quantit}'  of 
the  grain,  and  brought  it  home  in  a 
board  chest  which  he  constructed  and 
fastened  to  his  sled  for  that  purpose. 
This  was  quite  a  successful  speculation, 
as  he  paid  only  a  dollar  per  bushel  ahd 
it  sold  readily  at  home  for  a  dollar  and 
a  half.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
the  family  flour  barrel  had  not  then 
come  into  vogue.  Wheat  was  raised 
upon  the  farm,  or  bought  and  ground 
by  the  bushel.  Bolts  had  been  put  into 
most  of  the  mills,  but  some  families 
still  used  their  flour  unbolted.  Indian 
meal  and  rye,  especially  rye,  were  the 
staples  for  daily  use  in  most  house- 
holds. Baiie}-  was  also  raised  and 
ground,  but  wheat  flour  was  somewhat 


REMINISCENCES 


of  a  luxury ;  a  housekeeper  felt  rich 
with  a  bushel  or  two  on  hand,  and  it 
was  made  to  last  a  long  time. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

On  July  19th,  1794,  occurred  one  of 
those  catastrophes  that  send  a  thrill  of 
horror  and  anguish  throughout  the  com- 
munity. My  seventh  birth-day  came  a 
few  days  previous.  Aunt  Hannah  Lit- 
tle and  myself  had  been  for  some  time 
anticipating  the  pleasure  of  spending 
the  anniversary  with  m}~  mother's  aunt, 
Mrs.  Simeon  Chase.  This  lad}-  still 
occupied  the  paternal  homestead.  The 
,  parish,  then  an  infant  one  just  gather- 
ed, had  not,  at  the  settlement  of  the 
Rev.  William  Johnson,  provided  a  par- 
sonage. The  clergyman  purchased  sev- 
eral acres  near  the  meeting-house,  upon 
which  he  erected  a  house  and  farm 
buildings.  The  mansion,  a  square,  dou- 
ble house,  with  a  chimney  at  either  end, 
stood  a  little  below  the  meeting-house, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  just 
bej'ond  the  brow  of  the  hill.  A  narrow 
lawn,  shaded  by  maples,  extended  in 
front,  a  picket  fence  separating  it  from 
the  grassy  country  road  from  which  a 
gravel  walk  led  up  to.  the  front  en- 
trance. A  carriage  drive  ran  round 
the  end  to  a  side  door,  and  to  the  barn 
and  other  buildings  in  the  rear.  Mrs. 
Chase  'and  another  sister,  afterwards 
Mrs.  Mood}',  were  unmarried  at  the 
time  of  their  father's  decease.  As  the 
other  sisters  had  each  received  a  full 
"fixing  out,"  the  furniture  of  the  house 
had  been  given  to  these  two  single 
daughters.  At  his  marriage,  Master 
Simeon  Chase  bought  the  Parsonage, 


the  library  and  other  appertenances  ; 
consequently  the  premises  at  that  time 
presented  nearly  the  same  aspect  they 
had  borne  during  the  first  pastor's  life. 

Madame  Johnson's  father,  Dr.  Hum- 
phrey Bradstreet,  had  furnished  his 
daughter's  new  house  in  a  style  not  fre- 
quent in  those  days.  The  principal 
entrance  opened  into  a  spacious  hall, 
handsomely  furnished  in  dark  wood, 
from  which  a  highly  ornamented  stair- . 
case  led  to  the  story  above.  The  white 
wall  was  decorated  with  the  portraits  of 
Lieut.  Governor  Dummer  and  his  wife, 
and  a  view  of  Harvard  College.  Under 
the  pictures  stood  a  large,  massive  din- 
ing table.  The  parlor,  a  square,  pleas- 
ant room,  was  to  the  left  of  the  en- 
trance. Its  three  windows  commanded 
a  lovely  view  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try and  the  river,  bounded  by  the  roll- 
ing hills  of  its  farther  shore.  This 
room  displayed  an  unusual  embellish- 
ment ;  the  walls  were  hung  with  a  velvet 
paper,  a  purple  figure  on  a  buif  ground. 

Papered  walls  had  not  yet  become 
common,  no  paste  was  used  ;  four  pol- 
ished hard  wood  convex  r slats  running 
round  the  room  held  the  hangings  in 
place.  Small,  slender  brass  andirons, 
and  a  tiny  brass  shovel  and  tongs 
adorned  the  tiled  fireplace,  an  antique 
table,  its  legs  curiously  carved  and  or- 
namented, stood  between  the  front  win- 
dows ;  over  it  hung  a  mirror  in  a  black 
and  gilt  frame  ;  the  chairs  were  cane 
seated  and  a  strip  of  cane  was  inserted 
into  the  high,  carved  backs.  An  arm- 
chair occupied  one  corner ;  opposite 
stood  the  buffet,  lustrous  with  rich 
silver,  brightly  painted  china  and  glasses 
of  various  shapes  and  graceful  device. 
The  libraiy,  the  opposite  front  room, 
had  shelves  round  the  two  sides,  well 
filled  with  books,  and  a  study  table  in 


OF   A   NONOGENARIA1T. 


25 


the  centre.  Master  Chase  kept  a  pri- 
vate school  in  this  apartment  part  of 
the  year.  The  back  sitting-room  was 
supplied  with  more  common  furniture, 
and  a  press-bed  that  turned  up  in  a  re- 
cess behind  folding  doors .  The  kitchen, 
the  other  back  room,  had  been  furnished 
with  every  convenience  then  considered 
requisite  for  the  domestic  purposes  of  a 
large  family ;  the  fireplace  was  huge, 
even  for  those  days,  and  the  long  dres- 
ser shimmered  with  an  array  of  bright 
pewter. 

Master  Chase,  a  very  eccentric  per- 
son, was  his  wife's  senior  by  several 
years,  and  he  was  fond  of  relating  how 
he  had  never  dreamed  of  marr}*ing  lit- 
tle Hannah  Johnson  when,  at  her  fath- 
er's desire,  she  used  to  draw  a  tankard 
of  cider  for  his  refreshment  upon  his 
calls  on  the  clergyman  in  his  college  va- 
cations. The  pair  were  childless  for 
fifteen  years  of  married  life  ;  then  a  lit- 
tle girl  was  born  to  them.  This  event 
caused  such  a  sensation,  was  such  a 
wonder  throughout  the  family  and  the 
vicinity,  that  the  Master  declared  the 
babe's  name  should  be  Myra.  Myra, 
therefore,  she  was  christened.  Little 
Myra,  on  the  watch  for  her  expected 
guests,  met  us  at  the  gate  ;  Aunt  Chase, 
a  slight,  black-eyed  woman,  bade  us 
welcome  at  the  door.  After  a  lunch, 
Myra  took  us  over  the  premises.  The 
Master  taught  one  or  the  other  of  the 
district  schools  in  the  town  during  the 
winter,  but  through  the  summer  he  re- 
ceived pupils  at  home,  j'ouths  fitting 
themselves  in  the  higher  branches  of 
learning,  for  college  or  mercantile  life. 
School  over,  we  went  into  the  library. 
How  numerous  the  books  looked.  Else- 
where I  had  never  found  more  than  a 
dozen  or  so  in  a  house,  and  we  were 
much  amused  with  the  plates  in  illus- 


trated copies  of  Josephus,  and  Homer's 
Ih'ad.  The  Master  was  in  the  best  of 
humor,  and  made  us  laugh  through  din- 
ner. When  he  chose  he  could  be  one 
of  the  most  entertaining  of  mortals, 
but  he  was  often  quite  the  reverse.  His 
family  were  accustomed  to  his  oddities, 
and  his  pupils  were  obliged  to  bear 
them. 

In  the  afternoon  Mr.  Parker  Chase's 
daughter  Sukey,  from  the  main  road, 
came  in.  As  Aunt  Hannah  and  I  took 
leave,  Miss  Chase  asked  me  to  carry  an 
invitation  to  our  neighbor,  Nabby  Hale, 
to  join  a  party,  across  the  river,  huckle- 
berrying  the  next  week.  Miss  Hale, 
who  was  on  the  eve  of  marriage  to  Mr. 
Moses  Longfellow,  of  Byfield,  resided 
with  her  grandfather  Dole,  on  a  farm 
at  the  southerly  end  of  Crane-neck  hill. 
The  young  lady  was  sewing  on  her 
wedding  dress,  when  I  delivered  the 
message.  She  said  she  should  visit  her 
stepfather  before  her  marriage,  and  if 
not  too  busy  would  join  the  excursion- 
ists. 

On  the  Saturday  afternoon  of  the  fol- 
lowing week,  Aunt  Sarah  and  I  went 
into  the  pasture  to  pick  berries.  It 
was  a  hot,  sultry  day  betokening  show- 
ers. Wandering  on  into  Bradford 
woods,  unheeding  the  sky,  we  were 
startled  by  a  terifflc  thunder  peal  ac- 
companied by  a  violent  gust  of  wind. 
Hastily  turning,  we  saw  that  the  west 
was  threateningly  black  with  clouds, 
and  though  only  a  few  scattering  drops 
reached  us,  in  the  direction  of  the  main 
road  it  was  raining  heavily.  The  first 
fright  overj  I  seized  my  basket,  in  or- 
der to  hasten  home  as  fast  as  possible, 
but  Aunt  Sarah  said  there  was  no  cause 
for  hurry,  the  shower  would  not  come 
our  way,  it  would  follow  the  river. 
Without  outstripping  my  companion  I 


26 


REMINISCENCES 


walked  fast  up  the  hill.  As  I  neared 
the  stone  wall  that  divided  the  pasture 
from  the  house  field,  to  my  surprise  I 
saw  mother  come  from  the  front  door, 
and  run  across  the  newly  mown  grass 
in  the  direction  of  the  bars  ;  I  leaped 
them  and  rushed  to  meet  her.  Tears 
were  streaming  down  her  cheeks,  and 
for  a  moment  her  speech  failed.  Aunt 
Sarah  hurried  forward  to  hear  the  terri- 
ble news,  which  had  been  brought  by 
Mr.  John  Peabody,  on  his  way  to  Mr. 
Dole's.  The  whole  of  the  benring 
party,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Moses 
Chase  (Nabby  Bale's  step-father) ,  had 
been  drowned  in  the  Merrimac,  by  the 
overturning  of  the  sail-boat  during  the 
thunder  gust,  midway  the  river,  as  they 
were  returning  to  the  Newbury  shore. 
Mr.  Chase,  on  seeing  the  rising  cloud, 
had  hurried  the  embarkation  of  the 
company,  never  dreaming  that  their 
safety  would  be  endangered  before  they 
could  cross.  His  three  children,  PoUy, 
Rebecca  and  Joshua,  Nabby  Hale, 
Mercy  Pillsbmy,  Sarah  and  Mehitable 
Brown,  and  Mr.  Edmund  Kendrick 
were  drowned.  Sukey  Chase  had  a 
singular  premonition  during  the  morn- 
ing, which,  as  the  time  for  sailing  ap- 
proached, increased  to  such  a  degree 
that,  under  the  plea  of  headache,  she 
remained  at  home.  My  father  and 
Aunt  Sarah  hastened  to  Mr.  Dole's. 
The  eight  bodies  were  soon  drawn  from 
the  water,  and  the  remains  of  the  lovely 
granddaughter  were,  towards  evening, 
borne  to  the  bereaved  home.  "Words 
are  inadequate  to  depict  the  scene ! 
The  stricken  family  and  youthful  lover 
were  for  a  time  wholly  overcome.  It 
was  arranged  that  the  seven  from  the 
main  road  should  be  interred  from  the 
meeting-house  on  the  morrow,  where 
Parson  Dutch  had  been  engaged  to 


officiate ;  but,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dole 
were  aged  and  infirm,  and  it  would  be 
more  convenient  for  the  Hales,  Long- 
fellows,  and  other  Byfield  relatives  and 
friends,  it  was  decided  that  Miss  Hale 
should  be  buried  from  her  grandfath- 
er's house.  Father  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  to  East  Haverhill,  to  procure 
the  services  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Adams, 
the  pastor  of  the  church,  for  the  funeral 
rites.  Until  a  late  hour  our  house  was 
filled  with  a  sorrow-stricken  throng, 
going  and  coming  from  Mr.  Dole's. 
The  following  day  father  and  Aunt  Sa- 
rah devoted  to  the  bereaved  family,  and 
we  all  attended  the  funeral  in  the  after- 
noon. 

The  obsequies  in  the  church  were  sol- 
emnly impressive.  The  seven  coffins 
were  placed  in  the  broad  aisle,  where, 
amid  the  sobs  and  moans,  Parson  Dutch 
—  his  own  voice  often  broken  —  spoke 
words  befitting  the  occasion.  Then  the 
seven  corpses  were  borne  on  the  shoul- 
ers  of  their  friends,  a  mournful  file,  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  procession,  an  immense 
throng— not  only  our  own  people,  but 
from  other  towns,  to  the  burial  place 
lay  the  river  side.  Slowly,  with  uncov- 
ered heads,  in  impressive  silence,  their 
burdens  were  deposited  in  the  seven 
open  graves.  Dust  was  committed  to 
dust,  with  that  hope  in  a  blessed  im- 
mortality, which  is  the  only  source  of 
faith,  upbearing  the  anguish  of  such 
an  hour.  Lingeringly,  with  many 
tears,  the  crowd  dispersed,  and  the 
dead  were  left  on  the  picturesque  hill- 
side, where  the  western  sun  would  lov- 
ingty  linger  and  the  soft  breezes  play 
over  the  grassy  mounds,  while  the  river 
rippled  be}*ond,  and  the  shadows  chased 
each  other  over  field,  woodland  and 
swelling  hills ,  and  the  smoke  curled  above 
peaceful  homesteads  dotting  the  wide- 


OF  A 


27 


spread  landscape.  Miss  Hale's  body 
also  rested  in  a  lovely  spot ;  a  small, 
rural  graveyard  at  the  foot  of  Crane- 
neck  Hill ;  a  pleasant,  secluded  "  God's 
Acre,"  where  the  song-birds  attune 
their  sweetest  melody,  and  the  violets 
bloom  the  earliest  and  grow  the  larg- 
est. 

The  Sunday  following  was  most  mem- 
orable to  all.  Dr.  Toppan  came  early  in 
the  week  to  sympathize  with  and  con- 
sole his  afflicted  friends,  and  former 
parishioners.  The  meeting-house  was 
crowded,  and  when  the  long  list  of  fu- 
neral notes,  requesting  prayers  were 
read,  there  was  not  a  dry  eye  in  the 
assembly.  Dr.  Toppan  preached  an 
extremely  appropriate  and  impressive 
sermon.  Child  though  I  was,  the  whole 
scene  rises  distinctl}'  in  my  memory. 
Mrs.  Hendrick,  in  her  widow's  hood 
and  scarf,  with  her  two  little  fatherless 
girls,  satin  the  next  pew,  and  the  oth- 
er numerous  mourners  in  their  sable 
garb  heightened  the  awe  and  sadness 
of  the  scene. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  summer  that  I  attained  my 
ninth  year  aunt  Bets}'  celebrated  her 
nuptials.  Preparations  therefor  pro- 
ceeded for  some  months,  and  the  skill  I 
had  acquired  in  marking  and  embroid- 
ery called  my  services  into  requisition. 

My  grandfather's  family  presented  a 
perfect  type  of  an  orderly  Puritan  house- 
hold. A  clergyman's  daughter,  Grand- 
mother Little  gave  an  air  of  refinement 
and  decorum  to  her  small  realm,  seldom 
seen  in  a  farmer's  or  mechanic's  domi- 
cile. 


Judith,  the  fourth  daughter,  had,  two 
years  previous, married  Mr.  Amos  Chase, 
whose  residence  at  this  time  was  in  Ha- 
verhill.  This  gentleman  descended 
from  Aquila  Chase,  a  mariner  from 
Cornwall,  England,  who  came  first  to 
Hampton  in  1610,  thence  to  Newbury 
in  1646.  He  married  Ann  Wheeler  of 
Hampton.  This  pair  had  eleven  chil- 
dren, five  sons  and  six  daughters.  From 
these  sprung  a  numerous  progeny.  A- 
mos,  son  of  Samuel  and  Sarah  (Stuart) 
Chase,  was  born  in  the  brick  house  on 
the  main  road  nearly  opposite  that  lead- 
ing to  Crane-neck  hill,  where  he  resi- 
ded when  first  married.  A  short  time 
previous  to  Aunt  Betsey's  wedding,  he 
purchased  a  farm  in  Haverhill,  about 
half  a  mile  below  Haverhill  bridge.  In 
addition  to  the  cultivation  of  his  land, 
he  was  largely  engaged  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  shoes. 

The  Chase  arms  are  : 


GULES  TOUR    CROSSES    PATENCE    ARGENT, 
ON     A    CANTON    AZURE    A    LION    PAS- 
SANT OR,  CREST— A  LION  RAMPANT 
OR,   HOLDING   IN    ITS    PAWS  A 
CROSS    PATENCE    ARGENT. 

At  my  grandfather  Little's,  three 
daughters,  Betsy,  Sukey  and  Hannah, 
and  the  three  sons  still  remained  under 


28 


REMINISCENCES 


the  paternal  roof ;  there  were  also  three 
young  men,  apprentices,  learning  the 
trade  of  a  shoemaker.  Grandsir  at 
that  time  carried  on  a  brisk  business, 
as  business  was  reckoned  in  those  days, 
in  a  shop  near  the  dwelling — this,  and 
the  care  of  a  good  sized  farm,  kept  ev- 
ery one  bus}-.  Family  worship  and 
breakfast  over,  the  ' '  men  folks  "  went 
to  their  labor,  and  grandmam'  and  the 
girls  began  the  day's  routine.  The  two 
youngest  girls  assisting  alternately  week 
by  week  in  the  housework  and  spinning. 
The  weaving  was  usually  put  out  to 
some  neighboring  woman,  though  some- 
times an  assistant  was  hired  to  weave 
at  the  house  for  a  few  weeks.  In  the 
cold  weather,  the  morning  work  fin- 
ished, and  the  dinner  put  over  the  fire 
to  boil,  grandmam',  would  seat  herself 
by  the  window  with  her  basket,  and 
call  me  to  a  stool  by  her  side,  where  I 
industriously  stitched  through  the  day, 
now  and  then  recreating  with  a  run  to 
the  chamber  where  my  aunt,  unless  the 
weather  was  very  severe,  usually  spun, 
or  to  the  shop  or  barn  with  Uncle  Joe, 
my  boy  uncle,  a  great  rogue,  but  my 
very  best  friend  and  crony.  Company 
often  came  of  an  afternoon,  for  though 
my  grandmother  seldom  visited,  she 
was  "given  to  hospitality,"  and  the 
neighbors,  relatives  and  town's  folks 
fully  appreciated  and  enjo}"ed  the  at- 
tractions of  her  house  and  tea  table. 

At  dark  my  work  was  laid  aside. 
Uncle  Joe  and  I  occupied  the  form  in 
the  chimney  corner  of  an  evening, 
cracking  nuts,  parching  corn  in  the 
ashes  with  a  crooked  stick,  roasting 
apples  and  telling  stories  or  riddles, 
or  playing  fox  and  geese  on  a  board, 
chalked  for  the  game,  with  a  red  kernel 
of  com  for  the  fox  and  yellow  for 
geese. 


At  nine  o'clock  grandsir  and  the 
young  men  came.  Grandsir  would  seat 
himself  in  his  arm-chair,  before  the  fire 
to  toast  his  feet,  grandmam'  lay  aside 
her  knitting  and  draw  her  low  one  to 
the  corner  beside  our  form.  The  nuts, 
corn  and  apples  were  passed  round, 
and  sometimes  a  mug  of  flip  was  made. 
After  all  had  become  wanned  and  re- 
freshed, the  Bible  was  laid  on  the 
stand,  a  fresh  candle  lighted,  and  the 
old  gentleman  reverently  read  a  chap- 
ter, then  a  lengthy  prayer  was  offered, 
through  which  we  all  stood  with  heads 
bowed  devout!}-,  though  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  grandmam's  thoughts  were 
sometimes  called  to  this  mundane 
sphere,  by  that  incorrigible  Joe,  and 
her  low  ' '  'sh  "  could  often  be  detec- 
ted, as  she  thwarted  some  mischief,  or 
prevented  some  prank,  played  with  the 
dire  intent  of  making  me  laugh.  With 
the  warmer  weather  Aunt  Betsy  trans- 
ferred our  work  toher  chamber,  where 
it  escaped  the  espionage  of  the  curious 
eyes  and  gossiping  tongues  that  dur- 
ing the  winter  had  at  times  been  ex- 
cessively annoying ;  but  in  the  long, 
bright  June  afternoons  I  used  to  steal 
down  to  the  front  entry ;  seated  upon 
the  sill  of  the  open  door,  my  fingers 
kept  time  to  the  murmur  of  the  brook 
or  the  song  of  the  birds  in  the  willows 
bordering  the  silvery  stream  just  be- 
yond the  gravel  path,  edged  by  flowers, 
the  perfume  of  which,  mingling  with 
that  of  the  lilacs  and  sweet  briar,  filled 
the  air  with  grateful  odor.  Grand- 
mam' took  great  pleasure  in  her  flow- 
ers. Though  sister  Xoyes  "  could  not 
see  how  she  found  time  for  sich  fiddle- 
de-dees,"  and  brother  John's  wife  pro- 
nounced "  sich  things  all  vanity,"  and 
other  wise  people  thought  it  would  be 
better  to  raise  something  useful,  grand- 


OF  A  NONOGENARIAN. 


29 


mam'  continued  to  cultivate  her  garden 
to  the  end  of  her  long  life.  Her 
crocuses,  tulips  and  other  spring 
flowers  were  a  rare  show  ;  there  were 
a  splendid  collection  of  pinks  and  roses, 
and  a  great  array  of  autumnal  flowers. 
Hollyhocks  of  every  variety,  French, 
velvet  and  double  marigolds,  asters  of 
all  shades,  double  coxcomb,  and  a  bed 
of  crimson,  purple  and  yellow  amar- 
anths. One  of  my  first  recollections 
is  sitting  on  the  wide,  white  door  stone, 
watching  the  many  hued  four  o' clocks 
as  their  petals  unfolded  to  the  after- 
noon sun.  Another  delight  was  assis- 
ting grandmam',  in  the  autumn  to  ar- 
ange  in  prett}*  vases  of  home  construc- 
tion the  dried  amaranths,  which  mingled 
with  white-everlasting,  milk-weed,  bit- 
ter-sweet and  evergreen,  made  pretty 
winter  bouquets,  to  decorate  the  man- 
tles of  the  parlor  and  living  room ; 
these,  with  the  wreaths  of  running  ever- 
green round  the  mirror  and  clock,  also 
elicited  criticism.  ' ' Sich  things  did  very 
well  for  some  folks.  If  Miss  Little  had 
to  delve  and  drudge  like  most  women, 
she  would' nt  want  dried  posies  and 
greens  a  littering  her  house,  but  she 
always  had  contrived  to  live  lady  fled, 
and  with  that  squad  of  gals,  she  could 
afford  to  play  quality."  These  and  sim- 
ilar speeches  often  excited  the  anger  of 
the  "squad  of  gals"  but  grandmam', 
in  her  pleasant  way  would  bid  them 
"never  to  heed  things  beneath  one's 
notice."  "Recreation  was  necessary; 
if  she  chose  to  amuse  herself  in 
her  garden,  so  long  as  no  duty  was  ne- 
glected, it  was  no  one's  concern.  As 
for  use  she  considered  flowers  of  great 
value.  The  Almighty  had  decked  the 
whole  universe  with  beauty.  Who  was 
not  made  happier  and  better  by  pretty 
surroundings  ?  For  her  part  she  con- 


sidered it  every  woman's  duty  to  make 
her  home  as  agreeable  as  possible. 
She  was  sure  her  good  sisters-in-law 
and  the  other  croakers  enjoyed  a  bunch 
of  pinks  or  a  rose,  as  much  as  any 
one,  and  her  mints  and  sweet  herbs 
were  in  great  demand,  especially  lav- 
ender, to  strew  in  drawers  amongst 
linen." 

Sunday  was  the  only  day  on  which  I 
preferred  to  be  at  home.  Father  was 
somewhat  of  a  latitudinarian,  and  moth- 
er never  prohibited  my  picture  books. 
Of  these  my  town  friends  and  an  old 
lame  peddler,  named  Urin  who  came 
round  five  or  six  times  a  year,  kept  me 
well  supplied.  Old  Urin  was  quite  a 
character.  He  would  stump  in,  usually 
near  dusk,  with  a  bag  and  basket,  and 
sinking  into  the  nearest  chair,  declare 
himself  ' '  e'en  a' most  dead,  he  was  so 
lame  ! "  Then,  without  stopping  to  take 
breath,  he  would  reel  off,  "Tree  fell  on 
me  when  I  was  a  boy,  killed  my  broth- 
er and  me  jest  like  him,  here's  books, 
pins,  needles,  black  sewing  silk  ah1  col- 
ors, tapes,  varses,  almanacks  and  sar- 
mons,  thread,  fine  thread  for  cambric 
ruffles,  here's  varses  on  the  pirate  that 
was  hung  on  Boston  Common,  solemn 
varses  with  a  border  of  coffins  atop, 
and  Noble's  sarmon  preached  at  his 
wife's  funeral,  the '  lection  sarmon  when 
the  guv'ner  took  the  chair,  Jack  the  Pi- 
per, Whittington's  Cat,  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress, Bank  of  Faith,  The  History  of 
the  Devil,  and  a  great  many  other  re- 
ligious books."  "We  always  kept  the 
old  man  over  night  besides  purchasing 
his  wares.  As  I  had  an  eager  avidi- 
ty for  books,  the  peddler's  advent  was 
hailed  with  delight. 

At  grandsir's  the  Lord's  day  was 
kept  m  Sabbatical  strictness.  Every 
vestige  of  the  week's  employment  dis- 


30 


KEMENTSCElSrCES 


appeared  at  sundown  Saturday  night, 
no  book  was  permitted  save  the  Bible, 
some  pious  treatise  and  the  catechism. 
Pleasant  da3*s,  when  meeting  was  at- 
tended morning  and  afternoon,  the  day 
was  not  so  tedious,  but  stornry  ones 
were  seeminghy  interminable.  Then 
that  catechism !  Though  I  was  quick 
to  learn,  this  was  my  one  great  bug- 
bear. How  I  used  to  dread  the  cate- 
chising Grandsir  instituted  after  supper. 
Sunday  evenings,  Uncle  Joe  and  I  were 
alwaj's  falling  into  disgrace  by  our  dull- 
ness, aand  unt  Hannah  frequently  could 
sympathze  with  us.  Then  we  often  un- 
wittingly broke  the  rules  in  such  a  way  as 
to  receive  a  reprimand.  Never  shall  I 
forget  the  shame  of  one  memorable  Sun- 
day afternoon.  It  was  very  muddy  ri- 
ding in  the  spring,  and  as  it  was  incon- 
venient to  take  us  along,  Aunt  Hannah, 
Uncle  Joe  and  myself  were  left  at  home. 
We  had  studied  the  catechism,  read  the 
history  of  Joseph  from  the  Bible,  and 
played  with  the  cat  and  kittens  tih1  we 
were  tired.  Aunt  Hannah  went  into 
the  cellar  for  apples ;  there  she  found 
some  rotten  warden  pears  which  she 
brought  above  and  placed  in  the  sink. 
Uncle  Joe  took  his  jack-knife  and 
scraped  out  the  pulp  from  one.  "Look 
here,"  he  cried,  "see  my  pail,  look  at 
my  pail!"  "It  needs  a  bail,"  Aunt 
Hannah  returned,  as  she  brought  some 
strong,  blue  3Tarn  and  proceeded  to  tie 
it  in.  Joe  scraped  another,  Aunt  Han- 
nah tied  in  a  second  bail.  Knowing  I 
ought  not  to  pla}',  I  only  looked  on,  an 
interested  spectator.  The  spring  sun 
was  sliming  brightly  in  at  the  open  back 
door,  the  well  curb  was  near  with  a 
trough  for  watering  the  horses  and  cat- 
tle. Joe  took  his  pails  out  to  the  plat- 
form, Aunt  Hannah  and  I  followed. 
We  were  so  intent  seeing  the  little  boy 


fill  his  novel  pails,  that  we  forgot  to 
watch  for  the  close  of  services  as  we  had 
intended,  and  were  all  caught  in  the 
awful  crime  of  playing  on  "Sabba' 
day."  Such  a  chastisement  as  we  re- 
ceived !  Thereafter  I  never  staid  over 
Sunda}^  at  grandsir's  if  it  could  be 
otherwise,  and  when  I  did  stay,  for  years 
I  scarcely  dared  to  breathe. 

The  wedding  had  been  appointed  for 
the  last  of  June.  Aunt  Sarah,  and  a  fa- 
mous cook,  lent  her  assistance  in  ba- 
king the  cake.  Mother  cut  the  bridal 
dress,  a  light  slate  silk  gown  and  skirt, 
the  gown  was  festooned  at  the  bottom, 
the  neck  and  the  sleeves  trimmed  with 
lace.  The  bridal  hat,  a  French  beaver 
to  match,  was  ornamented  with  two 
long,  white  ostrich  plumes.  Aunt  Su- 
key  and  Aunt  Hannah  had  new  white 
muslins,  cut  square  in  the  neck,  and  short 
sleeves ;  the  breadths  run  the  whole 
length,  plaited  at  the  back,  and  con- 
fined at  the  waist  by  a  ribbon  sash. 
Grandmam's  best  silk,  a  blue  and  red 
changeable,  was  newly  trimmed,  a  tas- 
ty muslin  cap  constructed,  and  her  bri- 
dal lawn  half-handkerchief,  richly  bor- 
dered with  broad,  thread  lace,  which 
never  saw  the  light  excepting  on  high, 
gala  occasions,  and  sacrament  Sundays, 
was  carefully  done  up. 

The  important  day  arrived.  The 
house  was  swept  and  garnished,  the 
parlor  decorated  with  white  and  dam- 
ask roses.  I  wore  a  white  muslin,  and 
a  blue  sash,  like  Aunt  Hannah's .  Moth- 
er looked  beautifully  in  a  white  petti- 
coat and  brown  silk  over  dress ;  Aunt 
Chase  wore  her  bridal  silk,  a  reddish 
brown  ;  Uncle  Bill  and  his  affianced, 
Miss  jSarah  Bailey,  were  groomsman 
and  bridesmaid, — Miss  Bailey,  a  very 
handsome  girl,  looked  lovely  in  a  peach 
silk.  As  we  were  without  a  minister, 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


31 


the  Rev.  True  Kimball  from  the  lower 
parish,  performed  the  ceremony.  The 
wine  and  cake  passed,  a  merry  time 
was  enjoyed. 

The  Bartletts,  with  whom  the  Em- 
erys,  Johnsons  and  Littles  have  inter- 
married, are  of  a  family  both  "Ancient 
and  Honorable."  Adam  do  Bartelot, 
a  Norman  knight,  accompanied  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror  to  England.  After 
the  conquest  William  granted  him  a 
large  landed  estate  in  Stopham,  Sussex 
Co.  Sir  Adam  de  Bartelot  died  in 
1100.  He  was  the  progenitor  of  the 
Newbury  Bartletts.  The  original  grant 
made  by  William  the  Conqueror,  with 
large  additions,  is  still  retained  by  the 
Bartelots  of  Stopham.  The  present 
representative  of  the  family  is  Sir  Wal- 
ter Bartelot,  Baronet,  and  member  of 
parliament.  John  and  Richard  Bar- 
tlett,  who  came  to  Newbuiy  in  the  year 
1634,  were  of  the  Stopham  family,  be- 
ing sons  of  Edmund  Bartelot,  third 
son  of  William,  the  then  heir  to  the  es- 
tate. Another  brother,  Ensign  Thom- 
as Bartlett,  accompanied  John  and 
Richard  to  America  ;  he  settled  in  Wa- 
tertown.  Josiah  Bartlett  purchased  a 
farm  in  the  "West Precinct"  Newbury, 
his  son,  Josiah,  married  Prudence  Ord- 
way,  and  succeededv  his  father  on  the 
estate,  and,  for  those  days,  he  carried 
on  a  very  extensive  shoe  trade,  always 
employing  a  half  dozen  or  more  ap- 
prentices. These  youth,  for  j-ears,  bore 
the  designation  of  "  Bartlett  V  bo}rs, 
and  a  merry  set  they  usually  were,  up 
to  all  kinds  of  pranks ;  if  any  tricks 
were  played,  all  eyes  were  instantly 
turned  on  "Bartlett's  boys."  The 
children  of  Josiah  aud  Prudence  Bart- 
lett were  Josiah,  Stephen,  Betsey, 
Samuel,  William,  John  Emery,  Pru- 
dence, Polly,  and  Theodore  who  died 


in  infancy.     The  arms  of  the  Bartlett 
familv  are : 


SABLE:  THREE  SINISTER  FALCONER'S 

GLOVES  PROPER,  BANDED 

AND  TAPELLED  OB. 

This  without  a  crest  was  the  family 
arms  for  some  centuries.  Near  the 
close  of  the  fifteenth  century  one  of  the 
present  crests,  a  castle,  was  granted  to 
Sir  John  Bartelot,  who,  in  command  of 
the  Sussex  troops,  captured  the  castle 
of  Fontenoy,  in  France.  In  the  six- 
teenth century  a  swan  was  added  to  the 
crest,  to  commemorate  the  right  of 
the  family  to  keep  swans  on  the  river 
Arun,  a  right  granted  by  William  the 
Conqueror.  These  were  confirmed 
under  the  seal  of  William  Segar,  Gar- 
ter King  of  Arms,  October  27,  1616, 
14th  year  of  King  James,  motto  "Ma- 
ture." The  bridegroom,  Stephen  Bar- 
tlett, had  been  in  business  in  Newbury- 
port  nearly  two  years.  The  year  pre- 
vious Mr.  John  Peabody  had  moved 
thither,  with  Mr.  Luther  Waterman, 
the  two  gentlemen  had  formed  a  part- 
nership, known  as  the  firm  of  "Pea- 
body,  Waterman  &  Co."  Their  place 
of  business  was  a  store  on  the  corner 
of  State  street  and  Market  Square, 
running  back  to  Inn  street.  The  front 
store  on  State  street  was  devoted  to  dry 


32 


REMINISCENCES 


goods,  the  back,  entrance  on  Inn  street, 
had  a  full  supply  of  groceries,  and 
boots  and  shoes,  the  latter  being  manu- 
factured in  the  chambers.  Stephen 
Bartlett  had  purchased  the  house  on 
State,  lower  corner  of  Temple  street, 
and  the  wedded  pair  went  immediately 
to  housekeeping.  As  was  natural  the 
bride  found  herself  intolerably  lonesome 
in  her  new  home,  and  a  pressing  invita- 
tation  came,  that  I  should  pay  her  a 
visit.  Mother  packed  my  things  in  her 
little  red,  wooden  trunk,  and  I  accom- 
panied father  the  next  market  day. 

I  vividly  remember  the  ride  down 
High  street,  and  father's  reining  in  his 
steed,  that  I  might  gaze  at  the  deer  in 
the  park  at  Mt.  Rural,  and  at  Dexter' s 
images.  Only  a  beginning  of  the  show 
had  then  been  made,  Washington,  Ad- 
ams and  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  a- 
dorned  the  front  entrance,  and  the  Li- 
on and  Lamb  reclined  on  either  side. 

We  found  Mrs.  Bartlett  fully  estab- 
lished, everything  in  spick  and  span 
freshness.  The  parlor,  now  the  site  of 
Mr.  Philip  H.  Blumpey's  store,  was  a 
large,  pleasant  room,  the  two  front  win- 
dows overlooking  State,  the  two  end, 
Temple  street.  It  was  handsomely  fur- 
nished, for  that  period,  with  a  mahoga- 
ny desk  and  book-case,  two  mahognay 
card  tables,  and  alight-stand  to  match  ; 
a  large  mirror  occupied  the  front  pier, 
two  pictures,  a  marine  view,  and  a 
landscape  ornamented  the  wall.  There 
were  half  a  dozen  dark  green,  wooden 
chairs,  and  two  rockers  to  match.  A 
Franklin  stove  had  been  set  in  the  fire- 
place, in  which  glittered  a  highly  pol- 
ished brass  fire-set.  There  was  no  car- 
pet, floors  had  not  then  become  gener- 
ally covered,  and,  if  carpeted  in  the 
winter,  they  were  usually  bare  in  sum- 
mer, carpets  being  considered  hot  and 


dusty.  The  best  chamber  was  elegant 
with  gay  patch  hangings  to  the  high 
square  post  bedstead,  and  curtains  of 
the  same  draped  the  windows.  A  toi- 
let table  tastily  covered  with  white  mus- 
lin, and  ornamented  b}"  blue  ribbon 
bows,  stood  between  the  front  windows. 
The  case  of  drawers  was  handsomely 
carved,  the  chairs  matched  those  below, 
and  there  was  a  novelty,  the  first  wash- 
stand  I  ever  saw,  a  pretty  triangular 
one  of  mahogany,  a  light  graceful  pat- 
tern to  fit  into  a  corner  of  a  room.  The 
other  chambers,  the  kitchen,  wash 
room,  etc.,  were  in  perfect  order,  and 
supplied  with  every  convenience.  Sev- 
eral newly  invented  improvements  for 
housekeeping  were  displayed,  amongst 
which  was  a  tin  rooster.  Heretofore 
our  meat  and  poultry  had  been  baked 
in  the  brick  oven,  or  roasted  on  a  spit, 
resting  on  brackets,  fastened  for  that 
purpose  to  the  high,  iron  andirons, 
common  to  every  kitchen.  Sometimes 
a  turkey  or  goose  was  depended  before 
the  fire  by  a  strong  string  hitched  to  a 
nail  in  the  ceiling.  At  the  "Wolfe 
tavern,"  and  at  the  residences  of  some 
of  the  wealthier  citizens,  a  jack  turned 
by  clock  work  had  been  placed  in  the 
wide  fire-place  of  the  spacious  kitchen. 
This  new  "tin  kitchen,"  Aunt  Betsey 
displayed  as  a  rare  implement  of  great 
value  to  the  culinary  art. 

After  dinner  a  visit  to  my  aunt  Pea- 
body  was  proposed.  I  hesitated,  and 
informed  my  aunt  that  mother  had  di- 
rected that  I  should  not  go  anywhere 
until  she  had  procured  me  a  new  bon- 
net. My  aunt  laughed,  and  replied, 
that  she  "thought  sister  Prudy  did  not 
expect  to  have  town  style  like  her  sis- 
ters'. Do  not  look  so  sober,  little 
sweet,  I  knew  head-gear  was  needed, 
and  here  it  is,"  she  added,  taking  from 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


33 


a  closet  a  white  muslin  Quaker-shaped 
bonnet  trimmed  with  green.  Of  course 
I  was  delighted,  and  my  happiness  was 
enhanced  by  the  information  that  it 
was  just  like  my  cousin  Sophronia's, 
and  hers,  of  course,  was  in  the  tip-top 
of  fashion. 

Uncle  Peabody  had  bought  a  house 
on  Middle  street.  It  was  smaller  and 
less  pleasant  than  my  aunt  Bartlett's, 
but  the  furniture  was  similar.  The 
curtains  were  white  with  netted  fringe, 
and  the  parlor  table  was  decorated 
with  an  elegant  gilt  China  tea  set  in  a 
red.  and  gilt  tray.  Aunt  Betsey  wished 
to  embroider  cushions  for  her  rockers. 
Miss  Betty  Bradstreet  was  celebrated 
for  designing  patterns  for  such  work. 
Aunt  Peabody,  learning  our  intention 
of  calling  upon  her,  summoned  So- 
phronia  from  school,  and  with  her  little 
daughter  accompanied  us. 

Humphrey  Bradstreet,  an  elder 
brother,  or  kinsman,  of  Gov.  Simon 
Bi'adstreet,  came  from  Ipswich,  Eng- 
land, to  Ipswich,  America,  in  the 
"Elizabeth,"  in  1634,  aged  40,  with 
his  wife  Bridget,  aged  30,  and  chil- 
dren— Hannah,  aged  9,  John,  3,  Mar- 
tha, 2,  and  Mary,  1  ;  had  born  here 
Moses,  Sarah  and  Rebecca  ;  was  made 
freeman  May  6th,  1635  ;  representa- 
tive to  General  Court  in  1635  ;  died  in 
1656. 

Humphrey,  Rowle}",  physician,  son 
of  Moses,  removed  to  Newbury  ;  there, 
by  wife  Sarah,  had  Dorothy,  born  Dec. 
19th,  1692  ;  Joshua,  Feb.  24th,  1695  ; 
Sarah,  Jan.  16th,  1697;  Humphrey, 
1700,  died  3"oung ;  Daniel,  Feb.  13th, 
1702  ;  Moses,  Feb.  17th,  1707  ;  and  Bet- 
ty, May  16th,  1713.  Dr.  Bradstreet 
died  May  1 1  th ,  1717.  His  widow ,  June 


9th,   1719,    married   Edward  Sargent. 
Arms,  Bradstreet : 

OERRONNY  OF  BIX  OUI-ES  AND  OR,  ON  EACH 

A  CRESCENT  COUNTEKCHANOED.    CREST 

A  UNICORN'S   IIKAD  HETWEEN  TWO 

BUNCHES  OF  LAUREL  IN  ARLE. 


This  is  the  ancient  coat.  The  arms  on 
the  seal  of  Gov.  Simeon  Bradstreet, 
born  atKobling,  county  Lincoln,  1703, 
where  his  father  Simeon  was  the  minis- 
ter— are  : 

ON  A   FESSE— THREE  CRESCENTS— IN  BASE 
A  HOUND  PASSENT.      CREST  A  DEXTER 
ARM    VAMBRACEI)  EMBOWERED,  THE 
HAND  GRASPING  A  SWORD. 

Anne  Dudley  Bradstreet,  Gov.  Brad- 
street's  first  wife,  was  the  first  "Ameri- 
can female  Poet,"  st}rled  the  tenth  muse. 
Dr.  Humphrey  Bradstreet  built  the 
second  house  erected  at  the  water  side. 
It  is  on  Water,  upper  corner  of  Lime 
street,  at  present  a  store.  His  young- 
est daughter,  Betty,  married  the  Rev. 
William  Johnson,  and  his  youngest 
son,  Moses,  married,  and  inherited  the 
paternal  mansion.  Four  out  of  five  of 
Mr.  Moses  Bradstreet's  children,  died 
within  one  week  from  the  terrible 
throat  distemper  which,  in  the  winter  of 
1735,  despoiled  so  many  households  in 
Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire. 
Betty,  her  aunt  Johnson's  namesake, 


34 


REMINISCENCES 


alone  recovered ;  but  vestiges  of  the 
fell  disease  were  carried  through  a  long 
life  in  impaired  beauty  and  a  weakened 
constitution.  Mr.  Bradstreet  died  in 
a  few  j-ears,  and  Mrs.  Bradstreet,  up- 
on the  death  of  her  children,  was 
thrown  into  an  illness  which  weakened 
her  mind  ;  though  she  lived  until  Miss 
Betty  was  well  advanced  in  age,  she 
oould  never  be  brought  to  regard  her 
daughter  as  other  than  a  little  girl. 
I  have  been  told  how  touching  it  was 
to  see  the  mother  leading  the  grown 
woman  up  the  aisle  of  the  meeting- 
house as  if  she  was  still  a  child.  Miss 
Bradstreet  had  numerous  suitors,  but 
till  her  mother's  death  her  life  was  de- 
voted to  her  ;  afterwards  she  declared 
herself  too  old  for  matrimony,  and 
in  compan}-  with  her  faithful  serv- 
ing maiden,  Hannah  Brown,  she 
lived  a  happy,  useful  and  contented 
life,  in  the  ancestral  mansion,  an  open 
house  to  her  relatives  and  friends,  while 
the}*  in  turn  were  often  enlivened  by  a 
visit  from  the  spinster  cousin,  whose 
advent  was  the  signal  for  a  genuine 
festival  throughout  the  household  and 
neighborhood.  To  children  in  particu- 
lar Miss  Betty  constituted  herself  a  sort 
of  patron  saint,  receiving  in  return  a 
love  and  devotion  never  to  be  forgotten. 
The  Bradstreet  mansion  had  been  a  pre- 
tentious house  at  the  period  of  its  erec- 
tion, and  with  its  extensive  and  well 
kept  garden  was  then  a  model  of  neat- 
ness and  elegance^  The  windows  com- 
manded as  exquisite  a  view  as  can  be 
found.  The  beautiful  Merrimac  broad- 
ening to  its  mouth,  Plum  Island  river 
pouring  in  its  tributary  waters  on  the 
right,  opposite  the  picturesque  Salis- 
bury shore,  terminating  in  its  long,  san- 
dy point,  the  narrow  outlet  at  the  bar 
separating  it  from  the  twin  point  at 


Plum  Island,  whose  length  of  sands, 
marshes  and  bushy  knolls  extended  in- 
to the  distance.  The  two  light-houses 
on  its  northern  extremity  gleamed 
in  the  afternoon  sun,  which  eradiated 
the  lofty  warehouses  on  the  wharves, 
the  wherries,  fishing  smacks  and  West 
India  schooners,  in  the  river,  and  the 
sails  of  vessels  near  and  more  remote, 
dotting  the  waves  of  Massachusetts 
Ba}-,  whose  blue  waters  stretched  afar, 
its  hues  mingling  with  those  of  the  ho- 
rizon. 

Miss  Betty,  a  tall,  prim,  rather  plain 
woman  of  sixty,  received  us  with  great 
cordialit}*.  Her  parlor,  rich  in  antique 
furnishings,  if  it  could  be  restored, 
would  now  become  a  perfect  bijou  for 
an  antiquarian.  Dark,  highly  polished 
tables  with  claw  feet,  and  high  backed, 
elaborately  carved  chairs  to  match  ;  a 
tall,  handsomely  ornamented  clock 
ticked  in  one  corner ;  an  elegantly  em- 
broidered fire-screen,  with  mahogany 
frame,  that  could  be  raised  or  lowered 
at  pleasure,  stood  opposite.  A  large 
mahogany  -framed  mirror  occupied  the 
space  between  the  front  windows  ;  over 
the  mantel,  which  was  decorated  witli 
tall  brass  candlesticks,  hung  the  por- 
trait of  Dr.  Humphrey  Bradstreet,  in 
a  red  coat,  buff  vest,  white  wig,  ruf- 
fled shirt,  and  delicate  ruffles  at  the 
wrist,  the  right  hand  grasping  a  lancet. 
-The  walls  were  further  ornamented  by 
paintings  and  embroidered  pictures, 
specimens  of  the  taste  and  skill  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house.  The  screen, 
the  wrought  seats  of  the  chairs,  and 
various  other  knick-knacks  scattered 
about  the  room,  were  also  the  handi- 
work of  the  ingenious  and  industrious 
maiden. 

Our  hostess  invited  us  into  the  gar- 
den, which  was  gay  with  a  profusion  of 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


35 


old-fashioned  flowers,  besides  fruit  and 
vegetables.  Each  having  been  sup- 
plied with  a  "bunch  of  posies,"  we 
took  our  leave.  A  pressing  invitation 
"to  stay  to  tea,"  had  been  givhn,  but 
Uncle  Bartlett  was  to  join  his  wife  and 
myself  at  Uncle  Peabody's,  so  the  visit 
was  postponed  until  the  cushion  covers 
were  drawn. 

As  we  returned,  my  aunts  spoke  of 
the  terrible  distemper,  that  brought 
such  sorrow  to  the  Bradstreet  mansion, 
as  well  as  to  so  many  other  New  Eng- 
land homes.  Aunt  Peabody  inauired 
' '  if  Aunt  Bartlett  had  ever  heard  of 
the  warning  given  to  Mrs.  Stephen 
Jaques  prior  to  her  grand-children's  de- 
cease?" Aunt  Betse}r  answered  in  the 
negative,  and  inquired  what  it  was. 
"Mrs.  Jaques  went  to  a  chamber,  the 
door  of  which  was  locked,  to  get  some 
candles  that  were  in  a  bushel  measure 
under  the  bed.  She  took  out  the  can- 
dles, laid  them  on  the  bed,  and  pushed 
the  measure  back  ;  as  she  lifted  the  quilt, 
she  saw  a  child's  hand  and  an  arm  cov- 
ered witha  striped  sleeve.  She  pulled 
down  the  bed  clothes,  and  searched  the 
chamber,  but  no  child  was  there.  In  a 
few  days  her  son's  children  were  taken 
with  the  throat  distemper.  OnThursday , 
just  a  fortnight  from  the  time  she  saw  the 
apparition,  Stephen's  son,  Henry,  died  ; 
the  next  Thursday,  Ebenezer  died,  and 
the  next  Monday  his  oldest  son  Stephen, 
died.  "I  do  not  know  what  to  think 
of  such  things,"  Aunt  Betsey  thought- 
fully returned,  "you  often  hear  of  oc- 
currences that  are  termed  supernatural 
in  times  of  sickness  and  distress."  I 
did  not  know  what  to  think  of  the  sto- 
ry, either.  On  whispering  an  inquiry 
to  my  cousin,  she  exclaimed,  "Ugh! 
Don't  talk  of  it,  I  beg !  I  shall  lie  a- 
wake  all  night. "  I  said  no  more,  but 


the  story  haunted  my  imagination.  As 
soon  as  I  shut  my  eyes  of  a  night,  that 
tiny  hand  and  striped  sleeve  would  pre- 
sent itself,  and  every  time  I  lifted  a 
quilt  it  protruded  from  beneath.  I  can- 
not say  that  I  was  afraid,  but  it  was  a 
long  while  ere  I  lost  the  vision. 

Aunt  Peabody  told  Sophronia  she 
and  I  might  go  to  the  store,  and  hurry 
her  father  and  uncle  home.  I  had  nev- 
er visited  an  establishment  of  the  kind, 
and  I  doubt,  now,  if  even  Stewart's  would 
appear  more  spacious  and  elegant.  So- 
phronia went  behind  the  counter  and 
measuring  off  two  yards  of  pink  satin 
ribbon,  presented  me  with  half  of  it ; 
I  demurred  as  to  the  propriety  of 
this  proceeding.  Mr.  Waterman, 
who  was  in  the  front  store,  told 
me  to  take  the  ribbon,  but  I  was  not 
satisfied  until  I  had  informed  my  uncle 
Peabocby,  whom  I  found  in  the  back 
store.  He  said  "Yes,  Fronie  and  I 
were  welcome  to  the  ribbon  ;  I  am  glad 
to  see  my  little  girl  generous  to  her 
friends."  After  regaling  us  on  raisins, 
he  led  the  way  back  to  the  front  divi- 
sion, and  taking  down  a  box  of  spangled 
gauze  fans,  he  bade  us  each  choose  one. 
Sophronia  took  a  buff  ornamented  in 
silver.  I  chose  blue  and  gold.  Uncle 
Bartlett  came  from  the  shoe  manufac- 
tory, and  invited  us  up  stairs,  where  he 
fitted  both  with  a  pair  of  purple  kid 
slippers.  Very  happy  and  grateful,  we 
accompanied  the  gentlemen  home  to 
tea.  How  vividly  they  rise  in  remem- 
brance. Gen.  Peabody,  tall,  preposses- 
sing, with  a  noble  figure  and  courtly 
bearing,  his  pleasant  face  irradiated  by 
smiles  as  he  familiarly  chatted  with 
"his  little  girl."  Col.  Bartlett  of  a 
slighter  mould,  lithe  and  active,  taci- 
turn and  grave,  excepting  on  occasions, 
when  the  serious  black  eye  would  twin- 


36 


REMINISCENCES 


kle,  as  the  thin,  firmly  cut  lips  gave  ut- 
terance to  some  witticism,  or  droll- 
ery, in  a  mirth-evoking  manner  wholly 
his  own. 

After  supper,  Capt.  Moses  Brown, 
whose  premises  adjoined  my  uncle's, 
came  in  to  invite  the  family  to  visit  the 
ship  of  war  Merrimac,  a  vessel  the 
town  had  built  and  presented  to  the 
general  government.  It  had  been  con- 
structed in  an  incredibly  short  period 
of  time,  and  was  the  great  focus  of  at- 
traction to  the  people  of  that  vicinity. 
Capt.  Brown  was  to  command  the 
ship,  which,  then  lajr,  nearly  ready  for 
sea,  just  back  of  what  is  now  the  City 
railroad  depot. 

As  there  was  quite  a  party  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  Aunt  Peabody  thought 
Sophronia  and  I  had  better  go  another 
time.  My  cousin  went  to  the  next 
house,  and  returned  accompanied  by 
a  boy  and  girl,  whom  she  introduced  as 
my  cousins,  John  and  Lydia  Kettell. 
We  seated  ourselves  upon  the  front 
door  step  for  a  while,  then  my  cousin 
proposed  a  run  over  to  the  meeting- 
house. It  was  a  warm,  moonlight  eve- 
ning ;  what  is  now  Market  square  was 
soon  reached.  A  large,  unpainted 
building,  its  heaven-pointing  spire, 
white  in  the  moonbeams  rose  before  us. 
This,  the  third  Church  of  Newbury  and 
the  first  of  Xewlmryport,  stood  where 
the  city  pump  is  now  located.  Having 
run  about  the  meeting-house  for  awhile, 
we  mounted  the  steps,  and  sat  down  to 
enjoy  the  evening  and  the  moonlight, 
talking  the  meanwhile  as  children  talk. 

The  next  day  Uncle  PeabocVv  took 
us  to  see  the  ship,  and  Maiy  Smith,  a 
connexion  of  my  uncle's,  who  resided 
in  his  family,  invited  us  to  accompany 
her,  in  the  afternoon,  to  visit  a  famous 
new  house  then  in  process  of  erection 


on  the  ridge  on  High  street.  Its  build- 
er was  a  Major  Shaw.  This  gentleman 
failed,  and  moved  from  the  place  ere 
the  edifice  was  completed.  It  was  pur- 
chased and  finished,  after  a  while,  b}" 
Captain  Elias  Hunt.  The  following 
morning  I  went  to  school  with  my 
cousin.  She  attended  a  private  school 
kept  by  "Mann  Emerson,"  a  very  good, 
stout  old  lad}-,  who  taught  reading, 
spelling,  the  catechism  and  plain  sew- 
ing to  a  flock  of  the  neighboring  little 
ones.  In  the  afternoon  Aunt  Bartlett 
took  me  to  call  on  my  father's  uncle, 
Mr.  Tlichard  Smith,  and  at  the  resi- 
dences of  the  two  brothers  of  my  grand- 
mother Little,  Mr.  Daniel  and  Mr.  Brad- 
street  Johnson  ;  she  also  called  on  her 
cousins,  Coombs  and  Wheelwright.  On 
Saturday  I  returned  home,  having  en- 
joyed a  most  pleasant  week.  Every- 
where I  had  been  welcomed  and  petted, 
and  I  took  back  an  enlargement  of 
ideas,  that  greatly  edified  and  amused 
the  family,  with  an  enhancement  of  im- 
portance in  the  eyes  of  my  country 
mati-.s.  which  produced  a  deference  due 
to  one  cognizant  of  town  elegance  and 
polish. 

A  short  time  after  this  visit  the  yel- 
low fever,  brought  from  the  West  In- 
dies, broke  out  in  Xewburyport.  From 
the  first  few  cases  it  rapidly  grew  to  an 
appalling  epidemic  ;  over  fort}'  persons 
died  from  the  disease,  amongst  them, 
Doctor  Swett,  one  of  the  first  physi- 
cians. Fear  and  consternation  seized 
the  population.  Few  from  abroad  ven- 
tured into  the  place,  which,  as  the  fever 
increased,  became  completely  panic- 
stricken.  Many  hurried  away  ;  others 
shut  themselves  in  their  houses.  Busi- 
ness and  pleasure  were  alike  suspend- 
ed. A  pall  seemed  stretched  over  the 
summer  sk}-,  and  death  appeared  borne 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


37 


upon  its  soft  breezes.  Ropes  were 
drawn  across  Water  and  other  streets, 
barring  off'  the  infected  district.  It 
was  difficult  to  obtain  attendants  for 
the  sick ;  and  the  dead,  without  funeral 
rites,  in  tarred  sheets  and  pine  coffins, 
were,  at  midnight,  carried  to  the  grave 
in  a  rude  vehicle  constructed  for  the 
purpose  of  rough  boards.  Thus,  un- 
shrined,  unknelled,  in  all  haste,  the 
corpse  was  covered  from  sight,  and  a 
new  mound,  that  for  a  time  every 
one  would  shun,  rose  on  the  old  bury- 
ing hill. 

When  the  fever  lirst  appeared,  before 
its  presence  was  really  known,  ni}'  un- 
cle Peabocty's  family  received  a  fright, 
which  happily  brought  no  evil  conse- 
quences.    The  eldest  daughter,  when 
returning   from  school,  was  informed, 
by  a  little  acquaintance,  that  a  dead 
man  lay  in  the  house  they  were  passing. 
"Come  in  and  look  at  him, "  she  said 
to    Sophronia,    "he  looks  real  funny. 
He  is  just  as  yellow  as  saffron."     The 
corpse  was  laid  out  ready  for  burial,  in 
one   of  the   front  rooms.     The   front 
door  was  open,  and  people  were  passing 
in  and  out.     Childlike,  Fronie  peeped 
in,  then  tiptoed  forward.    Sure  enough, 
the  dead  man's  face  was  of  a  deep  yel- 
low.    At  dinner  she  mentioned  the  in- 
cident, inquiring  what  could  have  made 
the   corpse   so  yellow.      Her    mother 
could  not  imagine,  but  my  uncle,  who 
had  heard  a  rumor  that  there  had  been 
cases  of  yellow  fever  in  the  place,  too 
truly  divined  the  matter.     Even-  pre- 
caution was  instantly  taken ;    Fronie 
was  kept  from  school,  but  none  of  our 
relatives  took  the  fever.     Aunt  Bartlett 
was  suddenly  and  violently  seized  with 
a  bilious  attack,  to  which  she  was  sub- 
ject.    The  family  were   alarmed,   and 
Grandmother  Little    was    summoned, 


3iit  she  was  quickly  relieved.  The 
neighborhood  was  greatly  frightened, 
and  the  morning  after  grandmam's  ar- 
rival ,what  was  her  horror,  as  she  drew 
aside  the  curtain  in  the  early  dawn,  to 
descry  the  dread  dead-cart  drawn  up 
before  the  back  door,  awaiting  what 
was  supposed  to  be  another  victim  to 
the  pestilence.  She  lost  no  time  in 
sending  it  away,  but  it  was  hours  be- 
fore she  recovered  from  the  shock  the 
fell  sight  had  given,  and  I  never  heard 
her  recount  the  incident  without  a  shud- 
der. Frost  subdued  the  plague.  The 
fever  entirely  vanished,  and  the  "Port" 
gradually  resumed  its  wonted  life  and 
appearance. 


CHAPTER   X. 

The  following  spring  I  was  prostrat- 
ed by  an  illness,  the  vestiges  of  which 
have  remained  through  a  long  life.  My 
head  began  to  ache,  Fridaj',  in  school. 
Master  Stephen  Longfellow  was  the 
teacher.  Contrary  to  my  inclination 
he  sent  me  home.  Mother  administered 
camphor,  I  retired  earl}',  and  the  next 
morning  thought  myself  well  enough  to 
attend  school.  I  loved  study,  and  it 
was  a  disappointment  to  lose  a  session. 
Though  not  feeling  strong,  I  managed 
to  go  through  the  morning  creditably. 
It  was  the  latter  part  of  March ;  the 
road  was  sloppy,  the  walking  tiresome. 
Just  as  I  reached  the  lane  leading  to 
the  house,  I  was  seized  with  a  terrible 
pain  in  my  right  knee.  Unable  to  walk 
another  step,  I  sank  upon  a  stone  by 
the  roadside.  My  little  brother,  who 
was  my  companion,  much  frightened, 
ran  for  mother ;  she  and  Aunt  Sarah 


38 


REMINISCENCES 


bore  me  home.  Mother  bathed  the 
limb,  and  I  was  kept  warm  and  dosed 
for  a  cold.  The  next  morning,  I  was 
so  comfortable,  it  was  not  deemed 
necessary  that  mother  should  remain 
from  meeting,  and  I  was  left  with  my 
brother.  A  short  tune  after  the  others 
had  gone,  Jim  ran  in,  with  the  informa- 
tion that  the  pigs  were  out  of  the  pen. 
"They  are  rooting  all  over  the  garden, 
SaUie.  What  shall  I  do?  I  can't  get 
them  back  into  the  pen  alone.  The}- 
will  spoil  the  garden  ;  they  have  rooted 
up  one  bunch  of  daffies  a'tfeady."  Look- 
ing from  the  window,  I  saw  that  the 
little  boy  was  right.  The  porkers  were 
making  sad  havoc.  I  hesitated  about 
venturing  forth,  but  at  length  decided 
to  go.  Putting  on  my  thick  boots  and 
wrapping  myself  up,  we  sallied  forth, 
and,  after  a  while,  managed  to  get  the 
obstinate  animals  penned.  I  was  much 
exhausted  by  the  effort,  and  when  the 
family  came  back  the}"  found  me  in  a 
raging  fever,  stiff,  and  in  pain.  Doctor 
Poore  was  brought.  The  worthy  doc- 
tor examined  the  case,  took  a  long 
pinch  of  snuff,  and  then  pronounced  it 
rheumatic  fever.  Blisters  were  applied, 
and  the  usual  remedies  given,  but  I  suf- 
fered fearfully.  It  was  three  or  four 
weeks  ere  I  could  move,  and  as  many 
more  before  I  could  sit  up  or  step. 
Months  passed,  and  still  I  remained  an 
invalid.  Autumn  brought  somewhat 
of  the  old  vigor,  but  I  was  obliged  to 
be  very  careful,  and  could  bear  no  fa- 
tigue nor  exposure  for  a  long  time. 
Relatives  and  friends  were  most  kind 
in  their  ministration  during  this  sick- 
ness, and  at  my  convalescence  even- 
means  was  used  for  solace  and  amuse- 
ment. It  was  a  perfect  boon  to  be  able 
to  read  and  sew.  Pilgrim's  Progress 
and  The  Arabian  Nights  were  abso- 


devoured. Opportunely,  Miss 
Betty  Bradstreet  paid  one  of  her  much 
prized  visits.  She  devised  many  sourc- 
es of  relaxation  from  the  dullness  of  a 
sick-room.  I  still  have  an  embroidered 
pocket,  the  pattern  of  which  she  de- 
signed and  drew. 

Mother  was  always  hurried,  and,  as 
I  grew  stronger,  I  felt  it  a  duty  to  as- 
sist her ;  but  after  I  had  sewed  nry 
seam  or  knit  my  stint,  I  would  steal  up 
to  Aunt  Sarah's  chamber,  to  read,  or 
work  upon  the  border  of  a  skirt  which 
Aunt  Sarah,  who  had  a  universal  gen- 
ius, had  drawn  :  a  lovely  vine  of  roses 
and  leaves.  I  feared  mother  would 
consider  this  too  much  of  a  tax  upon 
1113-  health,  so  the  work  was  carried  on 
surreptitiously  for  several  weeks.  At 
length  it  was  completed  and  exhibited 
in  triumph.  The  flower  garden  be- 
came a  source  of  gratification,  and  as 
soon  as  possible  I  limped  over  to  our 
next  neighbor's.  Mrs.  Thurrill  was  my 
mother's  aunt,  my  grandfather  Little's 
sister,  but  her  youngest  son  was  only 
one  year  my  elder ;  from  infancy  we 
were  playmates.  My  little  brother 
used  to  run,  in  shouting,  "  Here's  Bill 
Thuddle,  Sallie ;  Bill  Thuddle  has 
come  to  help  you  over  to  his  house." 
Mother  would  put  on  nay  things,  and 
with  Bill's  and  Jim's  assistance  I  would 
manage  to  cross  the  foot-path  through 
the  mowing  lot,  and  climb  the  stile  in 
the  stone  wall  that  divided  the  two 
farms.  Aunt  Thurrill  was  always  "  so 
glad  to  see  her  leetlc  gal ;  she  was  get- 
ting smart,  yes  indeed  real  spry !" 
Then  the  company  loaf  of  pound  cake 
would  be  cut  and  a  glass  of  metheglin 
presented.  Though- she  would  tell  the 
boys  to  go  to  the  cupboard  and  get 
something  to  eat,  that  doughnuts  and 
apple  pie,  and  sweetened  cider  and  wa- 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


39 


ter  were  good  enough  for  hearty  boys, 
the  urchins  never  failed  to  receive  a  bit 
of  cake  and  a  sip  of  the  honey  wine. 
After  I  had  rested  I  would  crawl  up  to 
the  spinning  room  to  gossip  awhile 
with  Jenny  Wheeler.  Aunt  kept  a 
hired  girl  through  the  year.  In  the 
summer  she  helped  in  the  daily  and 
housework,  but  her  chief  employment 
was  spinning. 

Uncle  Thurrill  kept  a  large  flock  of 
sheep.  In  the  winter  he  fatted  weth- 
ers, which  he  slaughtered  and  market- 
ed ;  the  fleeces  the  maid  spun  into 
yarn  which  the  old  gentleman  (he  was 
a  weaver  by  trade)  wove  into  cloth, 
which  met  with  a  ready  sale.  After  a 
hard  day's  wrork  out  of  doors,  it  was  no 
infrequent  thing  to  hear  his  loom  till 
twelve  or  one  o'clock  at  night.  lie 
was  also  abstemious  in  food,  rarely 
eating  meat.  There  was  usually  a  loaf 
of  brown  bread,  a  cut  cheese  and  a 
pan  of  milk  in  the  chimney  corner ; 
these  were  his  staple  viands.  Still  he 
wTas  a  health}-,  strong  man,  never  own- 
ing to  fatigue.  Besides  the  sheep,  he 
butchered  and  sold  a  large  number  of 
swine.  The  first  families  at  the  "Port" 
regularly  sought  aunt's  lard  and  sausa- 
ges ;  and  uncle's  pork  was  in  great  de- 
mand, lie  was  also  a  great  orchard- 
ist.  The  best  varieties  of  apple,  such 
as  the  "Baldwin"  and  "Russet," 
were  then  just  becoming  known.  The 
"Baldwin"  in  that  region  was  then 
called  the  "Hooper,"  from  its  having 
been  introduced  by  Squire  Stephen 
Hooper,  the  owner  of  an  elegant  coun- 
try seat  on  the  main  road.  My  father 
also  took  great  pains  to  procure  the 
best  fruit  for  his  thrifty,  young  orchard. 
I  have  spent  many  hours  helping  him 
graft. 

Amongst  our  near  neighbors  was  a 


somewhat  unique  family.  Their  name 
was  Dole  and  the}-  lived  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill.  There  were  three  brothers 
and  four  sisters,  all  unmarried,  and,  as 
is  often  the  case  with  single  people,  all 
seven  were  always  addressed  by  the 
affectionate  appellation  of  uncle  and 
aunt.  Uncle  Amos  and  David  tilled 
the  paternal  acres ;  Uncle  Moses,  a 
blacksmith,  carried  on  his  trade  in  a 
shop  by  the  roadside,  opposite  the 
dwelling.  He  boarded  with  his  broth- 
ers, paying  them  the  enormous  price 
of  one  dollar  per  week.  Aunts  Jemi- 
ma, Eunice  and  Judy  attended  to  the 
house  and  dairy,  receiving  their  living, 
as  in  their  parents'  life-time.  Aunt 
Susy,  an  invalid,  was  cared  for  and 
petted  by  all.  This  family,  especially 
Aunt  Judy,  had  been  unusually  kind 
during  my  illness,  and  the}-  were  solic- 
itous that  I  should  take  tea  with  them. 
As  soon  as  I  was  able  to  walk  so  far, 
Aunt  Sarah  took  me  down.  The  house, 
large  and  commodious,  stood  a  little 
back  from  and  end  to  road  ;  a  path  led 
up  to  a  door  which  opened  directly  into 
the  kitchen  or  living  room.  The  front 
commanded  a  pleasant  view  of  Dole's 
pond,  and  a  wide  stretch  of  meadow 
and  forest,  the  Clark  homestead, 
peeping  through  the  woods,  being  the 
only  house  in  sight.  We  were  received 
with  great  cordiality,  and  seated  in  the 
large,  cool  room  to  rest.  This  apart- 
ment had  the  usual  huge  fire-place, 
long  dressers,  heavy  table  and  flag- 
bottomed  chairs.  After  awhile  we  were 
invited  into  Aunt  Susy's  room  at  the 
back  of  the  house.  The  invalid  was 
scaled  in  a  chair  covered  by  a  coverlet, 
and  the  room  was  hot  and  oppressive. 
I  was  glad  to  accompany  aunt  Judy 
when  she  went  out  to  begin  prepara- 
tions for  tea,  which  were  a  source  ol 


REMINISCENCES 


great  entertainment.  The  good  woman 
moulded  a  pan  of  short  cake,  which 
she  rolled  out  and  placed  on  six  pewter 
plates  ;  placing  the  long  iron  oven  shov- 
el across  the  andirons,  the  six  plates 
were  deposited  before  the  fire.  I  dis- 
tinctly recollect  the  interest  I  felt  in 
watching  the  bannocks ;  seeing  Aunt 
Judy  turn  them,  and,  when  done,  split 
and  butter  them.  They  were  very  light 
and  nice,  and  eaten  with  stewed  straw- 
berries they  tasted  deliciously.  The 
three  uncles  came  in  to  tea ;  uncle 
said  a  length}-  grace,  then  we  all  did 
justice  to  the  viands.  I  greatly  enjoy- 
ed my  visit,  and  on  my  return  made 
the  household  laugh  heartily  with  the 
description  of  aunt  Judy's  six  Johnny 
cakes. 

That  summer  our  neighbors,  the 
Pillsburys,  put  up  a  new  house.  It  was 
raised  in  June.  This  brought  a  festi- 
val. A  sumptuous  entertainment  was 
provided.  Aunt  Sarah  lent  her  assist- 
ance, and  the  whole  neighborhood  were 
on  the  qui  vive  for  several  days.  On 
the  afternoon  appointed  most  of  the 
parish,  and  visitors  from  the  vicinity, 
thronged  to  the  place.  The  stout  tim- 
bers of  the  sturdy  roof  were  reared 
with  the  usual  ceremonies,  christened 
with  prime  Santa  Cruz,  then  the  re- 
freshments were  spread.  Jollity  and 
sport  sped  the  hours  till  sun-down, 
when  the  crowd  dispersed.  Notwith- 
standing every  precaution  I  took  cold, 
and  the  next  morning  could  not  walk 
one  step.  Great  was  my  anguish,  but 
nursing  and  care  soon  brought  the  use 
of  my  limbs.  When  I  could  walk  I 
was  invited  to  spend  the  day  at  great- 
uncle  John  Little's.  His  farm  la}'  be- 
low, a  little  farther  down  the  hill.  The 
house,  which  commanded  a  pleasant 
view,  stood  back  from  the  road,  a 


thrifty  orchard  extending  in  front. 
The  two  sons  and  the  only  daughter 
had  been  married  several  years,  and 
the  family  consisted  of  only  uncle, 
aunt  and  a  hired  man.  I  always  en- 
joyed a  visit  to  this  quiet  domicile. 
After  dinner  Ruth  laughingly  said, 
"  seeing  she  had  distinguished  company 
her  weaving  should  be  set  aside."  Put- 
ting on  her  brightly  flowered  chintz 
she  took  her  knitting  and  called  me  to 
join  her  in  the  cosy  back  parlor.  We 
had  scarcely  become  seated  when  her 
grandson,  David  Emery,  and  his  step- 
brother, Jeremiah  Colman,  galloped  up 
the  lane  on  two  mettled  studs.  Spring- 
ing from  the  saddle  the  two  youth,  lads 
of  twelve  and  fifteen,  entered  with  the 
information  that  their  father,  mother 
and  younger  brother  were  just  behind. 

Betty  Little,  at  the  age  of  nineteen, 
had  married  David  Emery.  This 
young  man,  with  his  brother  Ephraim, 
left  orphans  when  mere  boys,  were 
heirs  to  a  considerable  property.  They 
were  still  young  when  the  Revolution- 
ary war  commenced.  At  the  return  of 
the  "six  months  men,"  called  out  after 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  another  sum- 
mons for  troops  came.  The  militia 
were  drawn  up  on  the  training  field  ;  a 
draft  was  about  to  be  made,  when  out 
stepped  young  David  Emery  and  vol- 
unteered his  services.  His  example 
was  instantly  followed,  and  the  quota 
was  obtained  without  a  draft.  His 
older  brother,  Ephraim,  fired  with  mili- 
tary ardor,  also  entered  the  army,  in 
the  capacity  of  fifer,  returning,  at  the 
disbanding  of  the  officers  at  the  end  of 
the  war,  with  a  captain's  commission. 
He  afterwards  reentered  the  army  with 
the  rank  of  major,  and  died  at  an  ad- 
vanced age,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  lib- 
eral pension.  He  was  one  of  the  found- 


OP   A 


41 


ers  of  the  Society  of  Cincinnati.  His 
commissions  from  the  records  of  that 
Society  are  :  ensign  in  Wiggles  worth's, 
afterwards  C.  Smith's,  thirteenth  regi- 
ment in  1777  ;  and  served  in  Sullivan's 
R.  I.  company  in  1779,  commanding 
lieutenant  and  pajTnaster,  April  10th, 
1779  ;  in  Tapper's  sixth  regiment  in. 
1783. 

David  was  with  the  army  till  after  the 
battle  of  Brooklyn.  His  time  of  ser- 
vice having  expired,  he  returned  home. 
His  health,  which  had  never  been 
good,  had  become  much  impaired,  and 
it  was  not  deemed  prudent  that  he 
should  again  assume  the  life  of  a  sol- 
dier. His  marriage  with  Betty  Little 
soon  followed,  but  consumption  had 
marked  him  for  a  victim.  Ere  a  year 
had  sped,  and  two  months  prior  to  the 
birth  of  his  son,  he  passed  away,  Octo- 
ber 21st,  1785,  at  the  early  age  of  twen- 
ty-two. Though  short,  as  we  count 
time,  his  life  was  long,  in  gallant  acts 
and  noble  deeds.  Few,  even  of  those 
whose  years  number  the  allotted  three 
score  and  ten,  could  give  a  better  rec- 
ord, and  his  name  has  been  handed 
down  through  the  succeeding  genera- 
tions in  affectionate  remembrance. 

Two  years  after  her  husband's  death 
the  widow  Emery  contracted  a  second 
marriage,  with  Mr.  Moses  Colman,  of 
Byfield.  Mr.  Colmau,  a  widower  with 
one  little  boy  five  years  old,  at  the  time 
of  his  second  marriage,  owned  and  re- 
sided on  a  farm,  delightfully  located 
near  Dummer  Academy.  He  also  car- 
ried on  a  large  butchering  business. 
For  years  the  market  at  the  Port  was 
largely  supplied  from  his  slaughter- 
house. The  3~ear  after  this  second 
marriage  a  third  son,  Daniel  Colman, 
was  born. 


David  Emery  had  passed  much  of  his 
childhood  at  his  grandmother  Little's. 
I  had  known  him  from  infancy.  His 
mother  and  mine,  as  girls,  had  been  es- 
pecially intimate  cousins.  Her  little 
son  had  been  my  playmate  at  home  and 
companion  at  school.  We  had  often 
sat  upon  the  same  form  and  read  from 
the  same  book.  Our  greeting  was  that 
of  close  friends  ;  but  the  fifteen-year- 
old  Jerry  inspired  me  with  much  awe. 
David  took  down  the  old  king's-arm 
from  the  brackets  where  it  hung,  over 
the  kitchen  fireplace,  and,  getting  the 
powder  horn  and  shot  bag,  told  his 
grandmother  that  he  was  "going  into 
the  pasture  to  shoot  that  woodchuck 
that  was  plaguing  grandsir ;  when 
Daniel  conies  send  him  along."  Call- 
ing to  Jeriy,  who  had  been  stabling 
the  horses,  the  two  went  whistling  mer- 
rily over  the  hill.  The  chaise  soon  ap- 
peared, turning  up  the  lane,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Colman,  Daniel  seated  be- 
tween them,  drove  to  the  door.  Mrs. 
Colman  came  in,  Daniel  ran  after  his 
brothers,  and  Mr.  Colman,  turning  his 
horse,  after  a  moment's  chat  with  Aunt 
Little,  drove  awa}r.  He  was  one  of  the 
overseers  of  the  poor,  and  had  business 
to  transact  in  our  part  of  the  town. 

Mrs.  Colman  desired  to  call  at  my 
grandmother  Little's,  and  I  accompa- 
nied her.  After  Mr.  Colman's  return, 
David  came  to  take  us  back  in  the 
chaise.  He  had  killed  the  woodchuck, 
and  was  in  high  spirits.  We  found  the 
other  boys  jubilant  over  the  afternoon's 
work.  They  had  assisted  in  unearth- 
ing the  prey  ;  and  David  had  also  shot 
an  enormous  hen  hawk  on  the  wing. 
His  grandparents,  though  affectionately 
attentive  to  the  other  boys,  were  evi- 
dently exceedingly  proud  of  "  their 


1IEMTN1SCEXCES 


boy,"  and  his  mother,  with  sparkling 
eyes,  said:  "He's  a  chip  of  the  old 
block." 

Mr.  Colman,  a  stout,  handsome,  jolly 
man,  posted  me,  much  to  my  chagrin 
(for  I  was  beginning  to  assume  young 
lad}'  airs),  upon  his  knee,  and,  with  a 
hearty  kiss,  pronounced  me  a  beauty,  a 
perfect  black- eyed  queen,  and  said  that 
I  should  some  day  be  David's  little 
wife.  "  Now  don't  blush  and  squirm, 
my  pretty,  but  expound  this  riddle : 
My  wife  has  two  sons,  and  I  have  two 
sons,  and  there  are  onh'  three  in  the 
whole."  I  was  as  much  mystified  as  a 
great  many  other  people  I  have  since 
seen  at  this  favorite  enigma,  which 
the  old  gentleman,  to  the  end  of  a  long 
life,  never  failed  to  propound  to  stran- 
gers, always  ending  the  explanation 
with  :  ' '  and  we  mixed  'em  all  up  like 
hasty  pudding ;  never  knew  any  differ- 
ence, they  are  all  mine  and  all  hers." 
This  was  true,  and  no  three  brothers 
could  have  been  more  attached  to  each 
other  ;  and,  in  after  years,  Colonel  Jer- 
emiah Colman  was  as  fond  of  repeat- 
ing the  family  riddle  as  his  father  had 
been. 


CHARTER  XI. 

Six  years  had  elapsed  ;  still  our  par- 
ish was  destitute  of  a  pastor.  Numer- 
ous had  been  the  candidates,  but  a  call 
had  been  extended  to  only  a  few. 
Amongst  these  favored  ones  had  been 
the  Rev.  Abraham  Moore,  and  the  Rev. 
Daniel  Dana,  but  those  gentlemen  had 
accepted  other  invitations.  The  fourth 
parish,  adhering  to  the  teachings  of 
Parson  Johnson  and  Dr.  Toppan,  for 


several  years  leaned  strongly  to  the  an- 
cient faith,  but  the  new  and  somewhat 
popular  idea  crept  into  the  congrega- 
tion, and  doctrines  began  to  be  promul- 
gated and  received,  which  the  fathers 
would  have  vehemently  denounced .  A 
young  candidate  by  the  name  of  Clark, 
•  caused  a  great  sensation.  Some  ac- 
cepted his  views  with  enthusiasm,  while 
others  denounced  his  words  as  a  sacri- 
lege to  the  pulpit,  which  had  been  so 
abh*  filled.  I  well  remember  a  call 
this  clergyman  made  on  us.  A  tall, 
pale,  light-haired  man,  with  homely 
features,  and  a  rigid,  austere  air,  his  ap- 
pearance was  most  unprepossessing,  es- 
pecially to  children.  I  had  been  a  fa- 
vorite with  Parson  Toppan,  and  unlike 
so  many  children  at  that  day,  never 
dreamed  of  feeling  awe  or  fear  in  the 
presence  of  the  minister ;  but  Mr. 
Clark's  manner  was  so  restrained  and 
frigid,  there  was  such  an  assumption  of 
sanctit}',  that  I  instinctively  drew  aside, 
and  quietl}-  stole  into  my  low  chair  in 
the  corner  of  the  room,  while  my  little 
brother  crouched  on  his  stool  beside 
mother,  hiding  his  head  under  her  apron. 
The  clergyman  seated  himself  in  the 
arm  chair  mother  offered,  and  after 
hesitating,  hemming  and  hawing,  in- 
quired ''if  she  was  the  late  Parson 
Johnson's  granddaughter  ?  "  Having 
been  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
with  an  accession  of  sanctimony,  he 
asked,  "if  she  held  to  his  tenets?" 
The  good  woman  was  too  much  occu- 
pied, with  her  dairy  and  her  family,  to 
trouble  her  head  much  about  doctrines, 
but  father  was  a  staunch  supporter  of 
the  old  creed,  and  somewhat  timidly, 
but  with  decided  .firmness,  she  replied, 
' '  that  she  had  never  seen  cause  to  de- 
part from  the  teachings  in  which  she 
had  been  reared."  Our  visitor,  hummed, 


OF   A   NONAGENAKIAN. 


hawed,  drew  his  fingers  through  his 
lank,  white  hair,  then  wheeling  round 
facing  my  poor,  trembling,  little  self, 
he  abruptly  asked,  "  Child,  where 
would  you  go  if  you  were  to  die  ? "  I 
could  have  truthfully  told  him,  I  did  not 
know,  but  my  tongue  was  palsied,  I 
quaked  all  over  with  terror.  In  a  still 
more  severe  tone  he  continued,  "Child, 
do  you  know  the  catechism  ? "  I  man- 
aged to  enunciate,  "Yes,  sir."  "  Then 
you  know  that,  as  a  child  of  Adam,  you 
were  born  totally  depraved,  and  unless 
you  are  born  again  in  Christ  3'ou  must 
be  eternalby  damned.  There  are  many 
little  children  in  hell,  yes,  children  as 
young  as  }"ou,  suffering  fiery  torments." 
I  do  not  know  what  farther  he  might 
have  said,  for  with  an  hysterical  scream 
I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and  mother  led  me 
from  the  room,  leaving  grandmam,  who 
was  deaf  as  a  post,  to  do  the  parting 
ceremonies.  Father  upon  learning  of 
the  afternoon's  occurrence,  was  posi- 
tively furious,  and  he  neither  went  him- 
self nor  permitted  any  of  the  family 
to  attend  divine  service  through  Mr. 
Clark's  ministration.  The  summer  of 
1798  the  Rev.  Leonard  Woods  came  to 
preach,  and  after  considerable  disagree- 
ment and  hesitation,  a  call  to  the  can- 
didate was  given  and  accepted,  the  cer- 
emony of  ordination  being  fixed  for  the 
fifth  of  December.  From  the  first  Sun- 
day my  father  had  not  been  exactly 
pleased  with  the  new  preacher,  and  as 
the  weeks  passed  this  distrust  and  dis- 
satisfaction increased.  These  senti- 
ments were  shared  by  a  respectable  mi- 
nority, but  with  the  true  democratic 
spirit,  they  gracefully  3'ielded  to  the  will 
of  the  majority,  and  the  preparations 
for  the  ordination  were  commenced  with 
the  accustomed  hospitable  bountiful- 


ness.  A  few  families,  zealous  for  the 
ancient  regime,  declaring  the  pastor 
elect  "a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  at 
heart  a  true  blue  Hopkinsiau,"  de- 
clined to  open  their  houses,  or  take  any 
part  in  the  festivities  or  solemnities. 
Amongst  these  were  my  father,  the 
Doles  and  Master  Chase.  Aunt  Ruth 
Little  was  one  of  Parson  Wood's  most 
enthusiastic  supporters.  She  devoted 
a  whole  evening  to  the  vain  task  of 
bringing  my  father  to  a  coincidence  in 
her  views.  Her  rhetoric  was  complete- 
ly wasted,  and,  quite  angry,  she  re- 
turned home,  to  wonder  at  "that  obsti- 
nate Jim  Smith.  He  was  a  real  Jacob- 
ite infidel.  Prudy  was  to  be  pitied ;  a 
minister's  granddarter,  too  ;  it  was  scan- 
dalous ! "  Her  preparations  for  the  or- 
dination were  upon  the  grandest  scale. 
Mrs.  Colman  came  to  assist  two  or 
three  days  prior  to  it,  and  quiet  Uncle 
John  was  stirred  up  into  an  unusual  in- 
terest and  activity.  The  best  of  viands 
were  procured,  the  case  bottles  replen- 
ished with  choice  liquors,  and  a  good 
supply  of  New  England  rum  provided 
for  the  refreshment  of  the  more  humble 
class  of  visitors.  Grandmother  Little 
had  everything  in  readiness  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  due  hospitality,  but  there  was 
no  fuss  nor  parade.  Deacon  Tenney,  a 
dignitary  of  the  church,  of  course,  was 
obliged  to  keep  open  house.  Aunt  Sa- 
rah went  to  help  her  sister.  Our  house- 
hold were  habitually  in  readiness  for 
company,  as,  living  on  the  old  family 
homestead,  we  were  any  day  liable  to 
unexpected  guests.  Our  Thanksgiving 
mince  pies  and  plum  cake  were  fresh ; 
there  Avere  plenty  of  pickles,  apple- 
sauce and  preserves  ;  but  mother  quiet- 
ly baked  an  oven  full  of  pumpkin  and 
apple  pies  and  fried  a  large  batch  of 


REMINISCENCES 


company  doughnuts,  Avhile  a  nice  sir- 
loin of  beef  was  as  quietly  reserved  for 
the  important  occasion. 

The  anticipated  fifth  of  December 
arrived, — a  terribly  cold,  blustering 
daj\  The  snow,  which  had  recently 
fallen  to  a  considerable  depth,  filled 
the  air,  blinding  both  'man  and  beast, 
and  blocking  the  roads  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  ox  teams  were  kept  going  to 
and  fro  to  keep  them  passable.  Father 
did  have  the  grace  to  break  a  path 
through  our  lane  in  the  morning,  and 
mother  roasted  the  beef  and  baked  a 
plum  pudding,  but  we  had  only  one 
visitor.  Mr.  Reuben  Pearson,  of  By- 
field,  managed  to  wade  through  the 
snow  on  horseback,  but  it  blew  into 
the  avenue  as  fast  as  it  was  cleared, 
and  at  night  it  was  level  with  the  boun- 
dary walls.  In  the  evening  David 
Emery  and  William  Thurrill  came  in 
on  snow-shoes.  Uncle  Thurrill' s  only 
daughter  married  Mr.  Jonathan  Smith, 
of  Haverhill.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith 
and  several  friends  had  come  to  her 
father's  the  night  previous  upon  their 
return  from  the  services  at  noon ; 
they  found  the  lane  leading  to  the 
house  impassable,  and  were  obliged  to 
sit  in  the  sleigh  until  a  path  was  clear- 
ed. The}'  were  snow-bound,  and  com- 
pelled to  remain  over  another  night. 
David  Emery  gave  a  graphic  descrip- 
tion of  the  ceremonies  at  the  church. 
Every  one  Avas  nearly  frozen  in  the  icv 
building,  warmed  at  that  period  by 
nothing  larger  than  the  tin  foot-stoves, 
with  which  most  of  the  women  were 
supplied.  The  wind  whistled  and 
howled  as  it  swept  over  the  summit  of 
the  lofty  hill,  rattling  the  loose  win- 
dows and  screeching  amid  the  stout 
rafters  of  the  ancient  pile.  The  lad 
had  called  on  Master  Chase.  That  ec- 


centric gentleman,  having  built  a  tre- 
mendous fire  in  the  sitting-room,  donn- 
ed hat  and  overcoat,  inufliing  himself 
to  the  eyes  in  a  huge  red  bandanna, 
and  drawing  on  a  pair  of  striped  yarn 
mittens,  he  mounted  guard  in  the  en- 
try, pacing  back  and  forth  in  a  silence 
which  was  only  broken  to  inform  in- 
comers, of  which,  as  it  was  the  old 
parsonage,  and  so  near  the  meeting- 
house there  were  mam-,  "  that  the}' 
could  warm  themselves,  but  nothing 
more."  David  was  immensely  tickled 
with  the  queer  oddity.  "  Oh,  you 
ought  to  have  seen  him,  Mr.  Smith,  so 
grim  and  glum,  but  he  did  pinch  my 
ear,  saying  that  I  was  my  father's  own 
son, — I  must  come  and  see  him  some 
other  day."  The  youth  was  not  just 
pleased  at  the  doings  at  his  grand- 
father's. "  Such  a  crowd  !  The  house 
had  been  thronged  ;  he  would  not  have 
entertained  such  a  gang.  The  horses 
had  eaten  more  than  half  a  ton  of  the 
best  English  hay  ;  the  pantry  Avas  emp- 
ty, the  liquor  case  ditto,  and  those  Dog- 
towners  had  drank  a  gallon  of  new 
rum,  and  nobody  knew  IIOAV  much 
cider  —  he  drew  till  he  wouldn't  draw 
any  more.  He  thought  grandsir  had 
not  enjoyed  the  day,  but  grandmam 
said  we  could  not  sufficiently  rejoice 
that  such  a  blessed  man  Avas  settled 
over  us." 

As  father  and  others  had  predicted, 
the  ordination  over,  a  new  order  of 
things  began  to  be  initiated.  During 
the  Avinter  it  had  been  customary  for 
the  middle-aged  and  elderly  people  to 
gather  at  social  teas,  after  which  the 
hours  were  enlivened  by  a  game  of 
checkers,  backgammon  or  cards ;  and 
the  young  people  held  evening  parties, 
where  the  youth  and  maidens  tripped 
on  ' '  the  light  fantastic  toe  "  to  a  tune 


OP   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


hummed  by  themselves,  or,  if  any  of 
the  number  chanced  to  be  musical,  to 
the  notes  of  a  fife  or  flute.  Once  or 
twice  in  the  season  a  ball,  over  which 
Fiddler  Bailey  from  the  "Port"  pre- 
sided, was  held  in  a  hall  on  the  main 
road.  The  new  pastor  soon  announced 
his  condemnation  of  this  innocent  gaie- 
ty. A  series  of  sermons  was  preached 
which  pretty  effectually  stopped  danc- 
ing and  card  playing ;  if  either  were 
enjoyed  it  was  surreptitiously,  but,  how- 
ever on  the  sly,  somehow  the  malprac- 
tice never  escaped  the  minister's  knowl- 
edge. Fearing  "spies  from  the  ene- 
mies' camp,"  other  recreations  amongst 
the  younger  people  were  substituted  — 
romping,  games  and  forfeits  —  which 
even  Parson  Woods  must  have  admitted 
were  no  improvement  over  the  decorous 
contra  dance.  The  same  might  have 
been  queried  respecting  their  ciders, 
when,  in  lieu  of  their  former  round 
game  of  cards,  their  only  amusement 
became  the  discussion  of  politics,  and 
the  scandal  of  the  town  and  vicinity. 
Amongst  the  pastor's  favorites,  social 
visiting  gave  place  to  a  course  of  even- 
ing meetings,  which  were  held  at  the 
several  school-houses.  While  many 
were  enthusiastic  in  praise  of  these  ser- 
vices, they  were  disapproved  by  the 
opposition  and  the  more  elderly  people. 
The  Sabbath  ministrations  and  the 
Thursday  lecture  had  hitherto  sufficed  ; 
they  had  no  faith  in  these  new  inven- 
tions. "More  than  half  went  jest  to 
pass  away  the  time  and  pick  up  the 
news  ;  as  for  the  young  folks,  it  was  a 
nice  place  to  see  the  gals,  and  to  pick 
up  a  beau  ;  they  guessed  there  would 
be  as  much  courting  as  godliness." 

In  the  spring  another  incident  caused 
greater  disagreement.  During  former 
pastorates  every  child  presented  for 


the  rite  had  been  admitted  to  baptism. 
It  began  to  be  whispered  that  Parson 
Woods  intended  to  set  aside  the  ' '  half- 
way covenant,"  and  baptize  only  the 
offspring  of  church  members.  A  niece 
of  aunt  Sara  No}-es  (recently  married) 
and  her  husband  had  come  to  reside 
with  and  take  care  of  the  old  lady  and 
her  farm.  In  March  a  son  was  born  to 
this  couple,  which  Aunt  Sara  desired 
christened.  As  neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs. 
George  were  communicants,  she  thought 
it  proper  to  ascertain  the  clergyman's 
sentiments.  Without  hesitation,  he 
promised  to  baptize  the  infant :  "It  was 
too  cold  to  take  out  such  a  young  babe  ; 
when  the  weather  grew  milder  he  would 
arrange  for  the  ceremony."  But  Sun- 
day after  Sunday  passed  ;  the  minis- 
ter could  never  be  made  to  appoint  a 
day  for  the  rite,  some  excuse  was  al- 
ways ready,  till  at  length  it  became  un- 
derstood that  thenceforth  only  church 
members  would  be  permitted  to  present 
their  children  at  the  baptismal  font. 
Aunt  Sara  was  excessively  indignant ! 
The  great-granddaughter  of  the  Rev. 
James  Noyes  ;  the  daughter  of  the  for- 
mer senior  deacon  (one  next  in  dignity 
to  the  pastor) ,  and  herself  one  who  at 
all  times  had  been  most  active,  not  only 
in  the  families  of  the  clergymen,  but 
throughout  the  parish,  whenever  her 
services  or  money  could  promote  the 
good  of  the  church,  Aunt  Sara  had 
come  to  be  regarded,  and  I  think,  also 
(though  she  would  have  disclaimed  my 
assertion),  to  look  upon  herself  some- 
what in  the  light  of  a  lady  elect.  A 
slight  to  such  a  person  could  not  remain 
unnoticed.  Many  were  really  grieved 
at  this  change  in  the  baptismal  ordi- 
nance ;  others  were  angry  at  what  they 
considered  duplicity ;  many  remarked 
that  it  was  "the  cunning,  the  ma- 


46 


REMINISCENCES 


uoeuvering,  that  excited  ire  and  aver- 
sion. The  pastor's  manner  was  so  ar- 
bitrary and  domineering  that  the}"  must 
regard  it  as  positively  insolent.  He 
ought  to  be  taught  that  he  was  not  a 
pope  to  head  a  hierarchy,  but  simply  a 
preacher  chosen  to  minister  to  a  con-, 
gregational  societ}-."  Several,  refusing 
longer  to  listen  to  his  teaching,  left  the 
society  for  other  parishes  ;  while  some, 
Aunt  Sara  and  Master  Chase  were  of 
the  number,  passed  the  day  in  private 
devotion  at  home.  Sometimes  the 
Master  joined  Miss  Noyes,  to  read 
aloud  a  sermon  he  had  written.  The 
Master  was  proud  of  his  sermons.  In 
his  vicinhVy  dwelt  another  family,  of 
bachelors  and  maids,  b}T  the  name  of 
Hills — two  brothers  and  four  sisters. 
The  good  women  were  fond  of  inviting 
the  master  in  of  an  evening,  to  read 
a  sermon  to  them.  One  of  these  ser- 
mons became  memorable,  causing  a  deal 
of  mirth,  from  the  unique  text,  which 
read :  "A  wonder  was  seen  in  heaven, 
a  woman."  Father's  dissatisfaction 
was  so  great  that  he  took  a  pew  in  the 
new  church  that  had  recently  been  built 
at  B\-field. 

A  disagreement  had  arisen  in  that 
society  at  the  settlement  of  the  Rev. 
Elijah  Parish.  The  minority  separated 
from  the  parent  Church,  formed  a  new 
society,  and  put  up  a  house  of  worship 
near  where  the  Depot  is  now  located. 
Parson  Slade,  an  Englishman,  educated 
under  the  auspices  of  Lady  Hunting- 
don, was  called  to  fill  the  pulpit.  Our 
family  continued  to  occupy  their  pew 
in  the  old  meeting-house,  but  I  often 
rode  over  to  Byfield  with  my  father. 
This  society  —  consisting  of  some  of 
the  most  prominent  -and  wealthy  fami- 
lies, the  Moodys,  Longfellows,  Tit- 
combs,  Adams,  and  Pearsons  —  con- 


tinued several  years.  At  length  the 
talent  and  fame,  coupled  with  the  ge- 
nial humor  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Par- 
ish, drew  the  seceders  back  to  the  old 
church.  Their  meeting-house  was  sold 
to  Deacon  Benjamin  Colman,  who  re- 
moved it  near  his  residence  and  fitted 
it  up  for  a  school.  A  female  seminary 
was  established  there,  which  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  enjoyed  an  enviable  celeb- 
rity. 

The  next  October,  Parson  Woods 
was  united  in  marriage  with  a  Miss 
Wheeler,  a  young  lady  from  New 
Hampshire,  and  a  parsonage  was  fur- 
nished for  the  young  couple  on  the 
Main  road.  Several  ladies  were  active 
in  this  service ;  Aunt  Ruth  Little  was 
foremost  amongst  them,  and  she  stren- 
uously exerted  herself  to  incite  mother 
and  Aunt  Sarah  to  her  own  enthusiasm. 
"Why,  the  blessed  minister  '  spake  as 
never  man  spake  ! '  And  it  was  report- 
ed on  good  authority,  that  his  bride 
was  every  way  his  equal."  Though 
mother  made  no  demonstration  she 
good-naturedly  assisted  Aunt  Ruth  in 
forwarding  some  of  her  favorite  plans, 
and  Aunt  Sarah's  sendees  were  enlist- 
ed at  Deacon  Tenney's.  It  had  been 
arranged  that  the  officers  of  the  church, 
the  more  prominent  members,  and  the 
intimate  friends  of  the  clergymen  and 
their  wives,  should  meet  the  bridal  party 
at  the  Bradford  line,  and  escort  them  to 
their  new  home,  where  an  entertain- 
ment was  to  be  given.  This  pro- 
gramme caused  an  excessive  fluster 
amongst  the  feminine  portion  of  the 
community.  Our  ladies  had  acquired 
a  somewhat  enviable  reputation  as 
cooks,  and  much  anxiety  was  evinced 
that  on  this  important  occasion  their 
credit  should  be  maintained,  no  little 
rivalry  being  elicited,  in  both  the  quan- 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


tit}"  and  quality  of  the  viands.  Dress 
also  became  a  momentous  matter  ;  moth- 
er, whose  skill  and  taste  were  unques- 
tionable, was  fairly  besieged  b}-  mem- 
bers of  the  family,  to  cut  new  dresses 
or  remodel  old  ones.  Deacon  Tenney 
brought  his  wife  a  new  silk  dress  from 
Boston,  and  a  fashionable  sister  select- 
ed an  elegant  hat  in  Haverhill,  that 
place  having  even  then  acquired  a  prom- 
inence for  its  style  and  fashion.  Our 
good  aunt,  a  modest,  retiring  woman, 
though  exceedingly  ladylike  in  manner, 
yielded,  though  much  against  her  wish- 
es, to  her  husband's  will  in  these  mat- 
ters, and  much  to  his  and  her  daugh- 
ter's delight,  Madam  Tenney  was  pro- 
nounced the  handsomest  and  best 
dressed  woman  in  .the  cortege.  On  the 
appointed  day,  about  thirty  chaises  met 
at  the  place  of  rendezvous,  the  last 
house  in  the  parish,  and  as  the  clergy- 
man and  his  bride  drove  up,  after  an 
hilarious  welcome,  the  cavalcade  formed 
in  line,  the  three  deacons  and  their 
wives  in  front,  and  dashed  over  the 
road  to  the  new  parsonage,  where  an 
animated  throng  awaited  them.  After 
the  ceremony  of  introduction  to  the 
young  madam  was  over,  the  crowd  re- 
paired to  the  tables,  which  were  loaded 
with  every  luxury.  Mirth  and  good 
cheer  ruled  the  hour,  the  bridegroom 
grew  positive!}-  gay,  and  the  bride  won 
every  heart  by  her  beauty  and  urbanity. 
After  supper,  singing  was  proposed, 
there  were  many  good  singers  in  the 
company,  and  when  several  tunes  were 
sung,  a  pra}-er  was  offered,  then  fol-; 
lowed  a  parting  hymn,  and  the  throng- 
dispersed  well  satisfied  with  the  enter- 
tainment. I  had  been  considered  too 
young  to  attend  the  party,  but  I  saw 
Madam  Woods  the  next  Sunday.  She 
''  walked  out  bride "  in  a  green  silk 


dress,  a  white  satin  bonnet,  a  white  sat- 
in cardinal,  trimmed  with  white  fur,  and 
a  grey  fox  muff  and  tippet.  She  was 
a  tall,  handsome  lady,  and  the  regard 
she  at  first  inspired,  continued  through 
her  sojourn  in  the  parish. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  farm  on  which  the  house  was  lo- 
cated, where  our  district  school  had 
been  kept,  belonged  to  the  widow  and 
minor  son  of  the  late  Robert  Adams. 
Mrs.  Adams,  a  sister  of  my  grandfather 
Little,  had  married  Mr.  Bradstreet  Ty- 
ler, and  moved  to  Boxford  ;  her  young 
son  went  with  her,  but  on  coming  of  age, 
young  Robert  took  possession  of  the 
paternal  acres,  and  notice  was  given, 
that  the  district  must  find  other  accom- 
modation for  their  school.  Uncle  Thur- 
rel  had  a  large  back  chamber,  which, 
as  nothing  better  offered,  was  hired  for 
the  winter.  This  was  an  inconvenient 
location,  on  the  extreme  southerly  boun- 
dary of  the  district,  too  far  distant  for 
the  girls  on  the  opposite  side  to  reach 
in  cold  weather.  Singularly,  it  so 
chanced  that  I  was  the  only  girl  in  our 
neighborhood  though  there  were  quite  a 
number  of  bo}'s,  and  to  my  discomfit- 
ure I  found  myself  alone,  the  sole  girl 
amongst  a  dozen  boys.  This  was  so 
unpleasant  that  I  was  permitted  to  re- 
main from  school.  The  next  summer 
Miss  Emerson,  after  some  trouble,  se- 
cured an  unused  comb-maker's  shop  for 
her  private  school.  The  winter  follow- 
ing, Deacon  Tenne}*,  anxious  to  secure 
educational  privileges  for  his  daughters, 
offered  a  rooih.  This  carried  the  school 
so  far  away  that  a  second  winter,  much 


48 


REMINISCENCES 


to  my  distress,  I  was  debarred  from  in- 
struction.     Father    said    things    were 
wrong,    something   must    be   done,    a 
school    house    ought   to   be  built  in  a 
spot  convenient  of  access.     The  subject 
was  brought  to   public   attention   and 
met  with  general  approval,  though  there 
was  some  opposition.     A  school-meet- 
ing was  called,  and  it  was  voted  to  build 
a  schoolhouse,  as  nearly  in  the  centre 
of  the  district  as  possible.     Mr.  Oliver 
Dole  made  a  survey,  and  it  was  deci- 
ded to  place  it  on  the  upper  side  of 
Crane-neck  road,  at  the  lower  corner  of 
the  intersecting  highway  to  Bradford, 
now  Groveland,  nearly  opposite  where 
the    present    schoolhouse    stands.     A 
building  about  fort}'  feet  long  and  thir- 
t}-  broad  was  erected,  finished  and  fur- 
nished in  the  best  approved   style   of 
the  period.     The  entrance  at  the  south- 
erly corner  faced  the  cross  road.      Pas- 
sing through  an  entn-,  furnished  with 
high  and  low  rows  of  wooden  pegs,  you 
entered  the  school- room.     On  the  left, 
extended  the  fire-place  ;  bej'ond  stood 
the  teacher's  desk ;   in  front  rose  tier 
after  tier  of  clumsy,  unpainted  desks, 
front  of  these,   and  around  the  walls 
were    ranged    low    forms.     Six    good 
sized  windows  lighted  the  apartment. 
Two  long,  narrow  rocks  supplied  the 
place  of  fire-dogs.     The  dry  kindlings 
were  stored  in  the  entn-,  but  the  green 
logs,  the  chief  fuel,  lay  conveniently  near 
the  door,  where  it  was  cut  as  needed,  b}- 
the  older  bo}-s.     The  new  school-house 
gave  general  satisfaction,  and  was  re- 
garded as  a  sumptuous  temple  of  learn- 
ing, of  which  the  district  was   justh* 
proud,    and    the    services    of    Master 
Chase  were  secured  for  the  inaugura- 
tion session.     Noted  for  his  eccentrici- 
ty, great  learning  and  strict  discipline, 
the  master  was  greeted  by  his  pupils, 


on  that  memorable  morning,  with  an 
awe  bordering  on  fear.  I  had  become 
used  to  his  oddities,  and,  though  never 
before  reckoned  amongst  his  pupils, 
when  visiting  at  his  house  I  had  often 
been  invited  into  the  library,  while  his 
scholars  were  under  instruction,  and 
sometimes  had  participated  in  the  exer- 
cises ;  so  with  more  confidence  than  the 
others,  I  took  the  desk  to  which  I  was 
assigned.  Contrary  to  the  custom, 
Master  Chase  never  opened  school  with 
prayer.  "The  devotion  brought  more 
deviltry  than  godliness.  To  prevent 
mischief,  one  must  pray  with  open 
03-68,  like  Master  Smith  at  Dummer 
Academy.  Let  the  parents  teach 
the  children  to  pray  at  home  ;  it  was 
not  the  province  of  the  school- 
teacher." At  the  commencement  of 
his  career,  this  idea  had  been  strongly 
combatted,  but  without  effect,  and  his 
sway  had  become  so  indisputable,  that 
now  no  one  thought  of  questioning  it. 
The  school  seated,  the  Bible  class  was 
called  to  read.  Books  in  hand  we 
ranged  ourselves  before  the  teacher's 
desk,  when  to  my  astonishment,  the 
master  in  a  loud,  authoritative  tone, 
said,  "Sallie  Smith,  take  the  head  of 
the  class,  and  read  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis.  The  others  will  open  their 
books,  and  pay  particular  attention  to 
the  reading,  especially  to  the  pronunci- 
ation and  expression."  Could  I  be- 
lieve my  ears?  Could  I  have  heard 
aright?  I,  read  alone — read  the  whole 
of  that  long  chapter,  with  all  those 
scholars,  some  of  them  nearly  men 
grown,  listening  in  silence?  I  could 
never  do  it !  My  inability  was  signified. 
"Bosh!"  cried  the  master,  "Sallie, 
take  your  place  and  read."  I  had  heard 
that  the  teacher's  laws  were  like  those 
of  the  Modes  and  Persians  ;  to  dispute 


OP   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


the  point  was  worse  than  reading,  so, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot,  I  moved 
up  the  class.  Encouraging  looks  were 
given,  Uncle  Joe  Little  managed  to 
whisper,  "Don't  be  scared,"  and  the 
presence  of  Nannie  Tenney,  next  to 
whom  I  found  nryself,  gave  farther  re- 
assurance, but  the  first  words  were 
both  low  and  tremulous.  "Speak 
louder,"  directed  the  master,  in  a  won- 
derfully polite  and  gentle  tone,  "read 
as  well,  Miss  Sallie,  as  you  did  to  your 
aunt  and  myself  last  autumn."  This 
remark  expounded  the  riddle.  I  could 
not  imagine  wiry  he  thus  called  upon 
me  to  read.  On  a  recent  visit  I  had 
entertained  my  relatives  one  stormy 
evening,  by  reading  to  them  from  the 
"Spectator."  Somewhat  reassured,  I 
managed  to  get  through  the  chapter, 
after  which  the  class  read  it  verse  by 
verse.  This  finished,  we  resumed 
our  seats,  and  prepared  to  copy  the 
first  rule  from  Pike's  arithmetic,  in  a 
manuscript  book,  into  which  all  the 
rules  and  our  examples  were  copied. 
The  master  having  pointed  the  pens, 
turned  his  attention  to  the  younger 
scholars,  those  whose  acquirements  had 
not  advanced  beyond  Webster's  spell- 
ing book.  At  half-past  ten  a  recess  of 
ten  minutes  was  granted,  first  to  the 
girls,  then  to  the  bo3's.  I  was  thank- 
ful to  get  to  the  fire,  as  the  sputtering, 
sizzling  green  logs  gave  forth  only  a 
doubtful  heat,  and  my  desk  at  the  up- 
per end  of  the  room  was  intolerably 
cold.  Spelling  followed  the  recess. 
The  session  closed  at  twelve  with  an 
intermission  of  an  hour  and  a  half. 
Many  of  the  scholars  brought  their  din- 
ners. The  noon  was  passed  in  fun  and 
frolic  by  most,  though  some  of  the  more 
studious  availed  themselves  of  this 
time  to  con  their  lessons,  and  some  of 


the  older  boys  chopped  wood.  The 
firing  was  prepared  by  the  boys,  who 
also  took  turns  in  kindling  the  fire,  and 
the  girls  swept  the  schoolhouse  at  noon. 
The  afternoon  exercises  were  opened 
by  the  first  class,  reading  from  the 
"  American  Preceptor ;"  next  the  writ- 
ing books  were  ruled  and  the  copies 
set.  While  the  older  pupils  were  thus 
engaged,  the  younger  scholars  again  re- 
ceived attention.  The  afternoon  recess 
over,  our  spelling  books  were  again 
taken  out.  The  master  having  donned 
his  overcoat,  red  bandanna  and  woolen 
mittens,  took  his  big  ruler  in  hand,  and 
commenced  a  promenade  to  and  fro  be- 
tween the  desks  and  the  now  smoul- 
dering fire.  The  recitation  in  spelling, 
and  a  second  Bible  reading  closed  the 
afternoon  session.  A  few  of  the  girls, 
myself  included,  at  Miss  Emerson's 
school  had  commenced  the  study  of  a 
grammar,  styled  "  The  Young  Ladies' 
Accidence."  As  we  were  anxious  to 
continue,  though  out  of  the  common 
course,  the  master  graciously  acceded 
to  our  wish,  though  he  would  not  per- 
mit his  female  pupils  to  cipher  in  ' '  Frac- 
tions." "  It  was  a  waste  of  time,  whol- 
ly unnecessary,  would  never  be  of  the 
least  use  to  them.  If  we  could  count 
our  beaux  and  skeins  of  yarn  it  was 
sufficient."  Those  that  I  have  named 
were  the  only  studies.  I  was  com- 
pelled to  continue  my  Bible  reading, 
and  the  master  continued  his  stern 
sway.  The  utmost  courtesy  was  en- 
joined. He  was  as  exact  in  the  matter 
of  bows,  curtseys  and  other  polite  for- 
mulas as  a  French  dancing  master. 
Occasionally,  of  a  stormy  day,  perhaps, 
the  grim  old  fellow  would  relax  for 
awhile,  and  become  one  of  the  most  ge- 
nial and  mirth-provoking  of  mortals. 
Having  raised  an  uproarious  merriment, 
7 


50 


KEMINISCENCES 


he  would  suddenly  thump  silence,  with 
his  formidable  ruler,  and  the  usual  rou- 
tine was  resumed.  Two  or  three  incor- 
rigible dunces  received  no  mere}'.  If 
shakings  and  spankings  could  have 
brightened  their  wits,  they  must  have 
become  brilliant.  Nothing  like  insub- 
ordination ever  appeared,  but  nothing 
escaped  the  lynx  eye  of  the  teacher, 
and  if  a  scholar  was  detected  in  idle- 
ness, or  misdemeanor,  the  Bible  or  any- 
thing hand}*  was  launched  at  the  mis- 
creant's head.  Mr.  Oliver  Dole's  sec- 
ond son,  a  lad  of  twelve,  was  rather 
more  inclined  to  indolence,  than  to  eith- 
er stud}'  or  play.  He  had  a  trick  of 
folding  his  arms  upon  the  desk,  and 
resting  his  head  upon  them,  he  would 
doze  away  the  time  given  for  the  prep- 
aration of  the  lessons.  One  afternoon, 
Diali  having  become  thus  comfortably 
composed,  I  saw  that  the  master  was 
poising  his  long  ruler  in  the  direction 
of  the  lad's  head  ;  suddenly  it  whizzed 
across  the  room ;  as  it  touched  him,  the 
boy  gave  a  quick  start,  the  missile 
canted  sideways,  and  passed  directly 
through  a  pane  of  glass  in  the  window 
behind.  A  suppressed  titter  ran  round 
the  room.  Without  asking  permission 
Joseph  Little  went  and  brought  in  the 
ruler.  As  the  cold  air  blew  in,  I 
1  stuffed  my  hood  into  the  sash.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken,  the  exercises  pro- 
ceeded as  usual,  but  the  next  morning, 
much  to  our  astonishment,  the  glass 
was  reset.  How  the  master  had  pro- 
cured a  light,  and  replaced  the  glass 
that  cold  weather  has  ever  remained 
a  mystery.  Amongst  the  older  boys 
was  Samuel  Thurrel,  Uncle  Thur- 
rel's  second  son.  This  lad  had  a 
somewhat  pompous  air,  was  rather  too 
apt  to  boast  of  his  father's  wealth,  and 
the  superiority  of  all  his  belongings. 


At  New  Year  he  had  been  the  recipient 
of  a  silver  watch ;  as  no  other  scholar 
had  acquired  to  such  an  appendage, 
Sam  strutted  about,  to  the  admiration 
of  the  smaller  fry,  while  he  excited  the 
scorn  of  his  mates.  This  disgust  had 
been  augmented  by  the  addition  of  a 
long  silver  chain  from  which  was  sus- 
pended two  heavy  silver  seals,  and  an 
immense  silver  key.  This  show}-  orna- 
ment was  displayed  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vantage, and  pains  were  taken  to  jingle 
and  jangle  it,  as  the  young  coxcomb 
paraded  back  and  forth,  between  the 
recitation  and  his  desk.  There  had 
been  an  unusual  parade  one  morning, 
even  the  master  had  shown  signs  of  im- 
patience. The  afternoon  session  had 
commenced,  every  scholar  but  Joe  Lit- 
tle was  seated.  There  was  the  hush 
which  preceded  the  call  to  read,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  the  tardy  pupil 
entered,  his  face  the  impersonation  of 
imperturbable  gravity,  and  a  long  chain, 
the  curb  to  a  bridle,  dangling  from  his 
pocket ;  to  this  chain  was  attached  two 
seals  cut  from  sole  leather,  and  an  enor- 
mous key.  With  a  ludicrous  imitation 
of  Sam,  he  made  his  bow,  then  strode 
up  the  aisle,  lifting  his  foot  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  jingle  the  curb  chain  at 
every  step,  while  the  seals  and  key 
swung  about  most  conspicuously.  At 
sight  of  the  youth,  the  master's  face 
gave  a  spasmodic  twitch,  then  lie  was 
seized  with  such  a  fit  of  coughing, 
that  it  was  some  moments  ere  the  ruler 
signalled  silence,  or  the  general  giggle 
that  ran  round  the  room  was  sup- 
pressed, but  at  length  the  summons  to 
the  class  came,  and  though  my  uncle 
continued  to  strut  about,  displaying  his 
new  ornament,  much  to  the  delight  of 
the  scholars,  especially  the  older  girls, 
whose  merriment  was  scarcely  repressed, 


OF   A    NONAGENARIAN. 


51 


he  received  no  reprimand ;  no  notice 
was  taken  of  the  joke,  though  we  all 
knew  that  the  old  fellow  was  enjoying 
it  hugely.  The  next  morning,  Sam  ap- 
peared minus  his  watch,  and  Uncle  Joe 
never  again  displayed  his  curb  chain. 
The  winter  term  sped  all  too  soon. 
Notwithstanding  his  oddity,  and  strict 
discipline,  Master  Chase  had  the  skill 
to  interest  his  pupils  in  their  studies, 
and,  though  the  course  was  somewhat 
meagre,  it  was  thorough.  We  really 
learned  the  three  studies  taught,  read- 
ing, writing  and  arithmetic.  Few  pu- 
pils of  the  present  day  could  surpass 
our  first  class  reading,  our  spelling 
matches  must  have  won  the  palm,  and 
now  we  rarely  see  such  penmanship  as 
was  common  at  that  period.  Some  of 
the  arithmetical  manuscript  were  ele- 
gant specimens  of  chirography. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

On  December  14th,  1799,  the  coun- 
try was  called  to  mourn  the  death  of 
Gen.  George  Washington.  Express- 
ions of  heartfelt  grief  were  universal. 
Every  one  felt  that  the  nation  had  suf- 
fered an  irreparable  loss,  that  the  fam- 
ily of  states  was  bereft  of  its  head,  its 
father  and  truest  friend.  In  Newbury- 
port  a  memorial  service  was  held  the 
second  of  January,  when  business  was 
suspended,  and  residents  of  the  coun- 
try flocked  to  the  town.  While  minute 
guns  reverberated  on  the  wintry  air, 
bells  mournfully  pealed,  and  flags  sadly 
drooped  at  half-inast,  a  long  process- 
ion bearing  the  usual  insignia  of  mourn- 
ing denied  through  the  principal  streets 
to  the  Old  South  meeting-house,  where 


an  eulogy  was  pronounced  by  Robert 
Treat  Paine.  It  was  a  day  never  to 
be  forgotten,  and  the  crape  badge  my 
father  had  worn  was  treasured  for 
years  as  a  sacred  memento.  On  the 
22d  of  February,  Byfield  commemorat- 
ed the  birth  and  death  of  Washington 
by  tolling  the  bell  of  the  meeting-house 
an  hour  in  the  morning,  and  an  ora- 
tion, delivered  by  the  Rev.  Eh'jah  Par- 
ish. People  from  Newburyport  and 
the  whole  country  side  thronged  the 
house,  drawn  thither  by  the  reputation 
for  eloquence  which  the  orator  had  ac- 
quired. 

Uncle  Samuel  Smith  had  prospered 
on  his  Vermont  farm.  Good  buildings 
had  been  erected  and  most  of  the  laud 
cleared  and  brought  under  cultivation. 
His  wife's  prophec}'  had  been  fulfilled. 
His  pleasing  address  and  varied  knowl- 
edge, enlarged  by  more  studious  habits 
than  was  usual  to  a  person  in  his  posi- 
tion, had  given  him  a  high  place  in  the 
estimation  of  his  neighbors  and  towns- 
folk, and  he  had  been  called  to  fill  sit- 
uations of  trust  and  honor,  both  in 
town  and  county.  He  usually  visited 
his  native  place  every  winter,  bringing 
a  sleigh-load  of  country  produce,  which 
was  exchanged  for  dry  goods  and  gro- 
ceries. 

At  the  end  of  a  bright  February  af- 
ternoon we  espied  Uncle  Sam's  team 
wearily  dragging  the  heavily  laden 
sleigh  up  the  lane,  and  mother  began 
preparations  for  an  extra  nice  supper, 
as  our  relative  was  somewhat  of  an  ep- 
icure. After  the  first  greetings  and 
mutual  inquiries  were  over,  Uncle  Sam 
passed  to  religious  topics,  and  much  to 
our  surprise  we  learned  that  he  had  be- 
come interested  in  the  new  doctrine  of 
Methodism.  An  itinerant  preacher  up- 
on a  tour  had  stopped  at  his  house  and 


REMINISCENCES 


claimed  hospitality,  which  had  been 
cordially  extended.  A  clergyman  of 
the  strictest  Calvinistic  proclivities  had 
been  recently  settled  over  the  congre- 
gation at  Berlin.  Uncle  Sam  did  not 
coincide  with  the  new  minister,  but  he 
was  immediately  impressed  by  the 
views  which  his  guest  unfolded.  It 
was  near  the  end  of  the  week,  and  the 
missionary  was  invited  to  stop  over 
Sunday  and  preach  in  the  schoolhouse. 
The  news  circled  through  the  district 
and  the  building  was  thronged.  The 
people  were  not  united  respecting  the 
regular  minister,  and  the  stranger  pro- 
duced a  marked  effect.  He  was  invited 
to  prolong  his  sojourn  ;  Uncle  Sam  and 
many  others  became  converted,  and  a 
church  was  formed.  The  preacher  had 
then  gone  to  new  spheres  of  labor,  but 
Uncle  Sam  and  others  conducted  a  reg- 
ular Sunday  worship  at  the  school 
house. 

Before  returning  Uncle  Sam  gave  us 
a  specimen  of  Methodism  in  a  long  and 
singularly  well-worded  prayer,  deliver- 
ed in  the  loudest  tones  of  a  powerful 
but  finely  modulated  voice  ;  this  peti- 
tion was  followed  by  a  good  hymn  set 
to  one  of  the  enlivening  Methodist 
tunes.  Mr.  Smith  had  a  remarkable 
voice  and  an  exquisite  ear  and  taste, 
and  his  singing  was  superb, — I  was 
enchanted  b}'  it.  Mother  liked  the 
hymn,  but  father  shook  his  head  and 
gravely  declared  his  sorrow  :  "  Sam's 
head  always  would  be  full  of  some- 
thing. He  had  got  over  dancing  and 
poetry, — now  it  was  preaching,  pray- 
ing and  singing.  "Well,  what  was  born 
in  the  bone  could  not  be  beat  out  of 
the  flesh.  He  never  was  cut  out  for  a 
drudging  farmer,  and  he  never  would 
be  one ;  he  only  hoped  he  would  not 
let  that  farm  he  had  got  under  such 


headway  go  all  to  rack  and  ruin." 
Grandm'am  was  so  deaf  that  it  was 
difficult  to  make  her  comprehend  the 
matter ;  but  Uncle  Sam  was  too  zeal- 
ous to  leave  her  long  unenlightened. 
This  good  woman  was  positively 
aghast :  "  Her  son,  her  son  Sam,  turn- 
ed Methodist !" 

Grandm'am  came  of  a  "  first  fami- 
ly ;"  she  was  as  complete  an  aristocrat 
as  ever  trod  in  No.  2  shoes.  "  Some- 
thing must  be  done ;  she  could  not 
have  any  such  doings.  Why,  it  was  a 
disgrace  to  the  family,  and  would 
bring  ruin  to  himself!  He  had  be- 
come of  some  account  in  that  far- aw  a  v 
place ;  he  should  not  subject  himself 
and  his  friends  to  ignominy,  and  mar 
his  bright  prospects.  Methodists,  why 
they  were  ranters,  gathered  from  the 
lower  classes  ! .  Her  son  had  nothing 
to  do  with  such  people.  It  was  pre- 
posterous !"  And  the  sweet,  mild  little 
woman  put  on  all  the  assumption  of 
authority  that  she  could  possibly  as- 
sume, and  in  the  most  solemn  manner 
pronounced  her  ban  upon  this  new 
spiritual  scheme.  Aunt  Sarah  pished 
and  pshawed  over  the  praying  and 
singing,  then  fidgeted  and  fussed  re- 
specting the  business  of  selling  and 
buying,  declaring  that  "  Brother  was 
so  full  of  his  new  religion  that  he 
couldn't  tell  a  cent  from  a  dollar ;"  and 
when  he  brought  home  a  dress  pattern 
of  black  silk  for  his  wife,  and  a  tasty 
blue  silk  bonnet  for  his  daughter,  she 
sat  clown  with  a  hopeless  face,  folded 
her  hands,  and  with  uplifted  eyes, 
washed  her  hands  of  the  whole  pro- 
ceedings. "  Sam  would  never  be  a 
forehanded  farmer,  and  she  really 
feared  he  would  become  clean  -dis- 
traught. The  Lord  wasn't  deaf,  he 
needn't  holler  so  at  prayer  as  to  make 


OF    A   NONAGENARIAN. 


53 


the  warming-pan  ring  in  the  cellar 
way,  or  to  scare  Uncle  Thurrel's  folks, 
who  couldn't  imagine  what  all  that 
shouting  over  to  Jim  Smith's  meant. 
.She  thought  Method}'  women  cut  off 
their  hair  and  made  frights  of  them- 
selves, but  then  sister  hadn't  lost  her 
senses,  like  her  husband,  as  she  knowed, 
and  for  all  his  piety,  Sam  had  too  much 
of  the  old  Adam  yet,  to  let  his  pretty 
Sail}-  wear  anything  but  the  most  be- 
coming." A  thaw  came  and  Uncle 
Sam's  stay  was  prolonged.  The  intel- 
ligence of  his  embracing  Methodism, 
caused  no  small  stir  amongst  his  rela- 
tives and  acquaintances,  and  every  eve- 
ning our  house  was  thronged.  Some 
came  to  hear  of  the  new  doctrines  from 
mere  curiosity,  others  from  a  desire  for 
knowledge,  and  a  few  earnestly  to  com- 
bat what  they  deemed  a  serious  error, 
affecting  both  the  temporal  and  spiritu- 
al welfare  of  the  convert.  Amongst 
the  most  forward  and  zealous  of  this 
class,  was  Aunt  Ruth  Little.  It  was 
vastly  amusing  to  listen  to  the  war  of 
words,  and,  it  must  be  confessed,  Un- 
cle Sam  proved  more  than  a  match  for 
the  contestants.  Politics  also  claimed 
a  due  share  in  the  conversation.  Par- 
ties were  in  a  furious  ferment.  "Fed- 
eralist" and  "Democratic"  (or  Jacob- 
in, as  the  party  was  usually  termed) 
lines  were  tightly  drawn,  each  display- 
ing unseemly  rancor  and  bitterness, 
which  had  sometimes  merged  into  strife. 
Father  and  Uncle  Sam  were  Jacobins, 
the  majority  of  the  visitors  Federalists. 
Uncle  Thurrel  was  a  great  politician. 
In  the  strongest  terms  he  would  de- 
nounce ' '  that  Tom  Jefferson  ;  if  he  was 
raised  to  the  presidency  there  would  be 
a  second  French  revolution  ;  the  nation 
would  find  to  their  sorrer  that  they  had 
got  a  second  Robertspear  to  rule  over 


"em."  Robespierre  had  for  a  time  been 
Uncle  Thurrel's  pet  bugbear,  and  his 
name  continued  to  be  brought  forward 
long  after  he  was  mouldering  in  the 
grave.  Aunt  Ruth,  with  characteristic 
A'ehemence,  would  plunge  into  the  dis- 
cussion. Her  face  aglow,  and  her  knit- 
ting needles  clicking,  she  would  volubly 
expatiate  upon  the  unsoundness  and  ir- 
reverence of  the  great  Democratic  lead- 
er. ' '  Why,  if  he  was  elected  president 
the  country  would  be  turned  upside 
down  !  Tom  Jefferson  was  no  better 
than  Tom  Paine.  He  believed  in  Vol- 
taire as  much  as  he  did  in  Christ,  and 
put  the  Age  of  Reason  afore  the  Bible. 
Let  him  get  the  reins  of  government 
and  there  would  be  no  more  'Sabba' 
day ; '  the  meetin'-'uses  would  all  be 
shet,  and  another  rein  of  terror  spread 
over  the  land." 

At  the  height  of  his  wife's  vehemence 
quiet  Uncle  John  contrived  to  change 
the  subject,  by  some  timely  question  or 
droll  remark.  Uncle  Sam  would  tune 
tip  in  one  of  his  lively  Methodist  hymns, 
and  the  company  would  disperse  in  all 
neighborly  friendship,  though  Aunt 
Ruth  never  went  without  a  last  word  of 
warning  and  rebuke. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  second  surprise  came  to  the  fam- 
ily and  parish  in  the  engagement  of 
Aunt  Susanna  Little  to  her  first  cousin 
Robert  Adams.  This  young  gentleman 
had  inherited  what,  at  that  period,  was 
reckoned  a  fortune ;  as  he  was  hand- 
some and  prepossessing,  he  had  been 
riageable  daughters  in  the  most  favora- 
regarded  by  anxious  mammas  and  mar- 


ble  light,  and  the  efforts  had  not  been 
slight,  to  win  his  favor,  but  young  Rob- 
ert had  proved  invulnerable.  Though 
he  had  taken  possession  of  his  farm, 
he  had  boarded  in  the  family  of  his 
cousin  Edmund  Little,  who  rented  his 
house,  in  bachelor  content.  Now,  with- 
out the  least  warning,  it  was  announced 
that  Sukey  Little  had  won  the  prize, 
that  Mr.  Adams  was  making  arrange- 
ments to  put  up  a  new  house,  and  the 
marriage  would  take  place  on  its  com- 
pletion in  the  autumn. 

The  Adams  families  of  Newbury 
claim  to  have  descended  from  John  Ap 
Adam,  who  was  summoned  to  parlia- 
ment as  a  Baron  of  the  Realm  from 
1296  to  1307.  He  descended  from  a 
family  in  Wales  whose  record  runs  back 
several  centuries.  The  genealogy  is  as 
follows : 

John  Ap  Adam  —  Elizabeth  Gourney. 
Sir  John  Ap  Adam  — 
William  Ap  Adam  — 
Sir  John  Ap  Adam  — 
Thomas  Ap  Adam  —  Jane  Inge. 
Sir  John  Ap  Adam  —  Miliscent  Besylls. 
Sir  John  Ap  Adam  alias  Adams  —  Clara 
Powell. 

Roger  Adams  —  Jane  Eliott. 
Thomas  Adams  —  Maria  Upton. 
John  Adams  —  Jane  Benneleigh. 
John  Adams  —  Catherine  Stebling. 
John  Adams  —  Margaret  Squier. 
Richard  Adams  —  Margaret  Armager 

who  had  two  sons,  Robert,  who  mar- 
ried Elizabeth  Shirland,  and  William, 

who  married Barrington.     Henry, 

one  of  the  sons  of  William,  came  to 
New  England  in  1630,  and  died  in 
Braintree.  He  was  the  ancestor  of  the 
presidents  John  and  John  Quincy  Ad- 
ams. Robert,  the  son  of  Robert,  came 
from  Devonshire  to  Ipswich  in  1635, 
thence  to  Salem  in  1638,  and .  to 
Newbury  in  1640.  His  wife,  Eleanor, 
died  June  12th,  1677.  He  died  Oct. 
12th,  1682.  His  second  wife,  Sara. 
widow  of  Henry  Short,  he  married 


Feb.  6th,  1678.  She  died  Oct.  24th, 
1 6D7.  Children  :  Abraham,  born  1639  ; 
Isaac,  born  1648  ;  Jacob,  born  April  23, 
1649,  died  in  infancy ;  another  Jacob 
born  Sept.  13th,  1651  ;  Hannah,  born 
June  25th,  1650;  Robert,  Elizabeth, 
Joanna,  Mary  and  John.  Abraham 
Adams,  son  of  Robert  married  Mary 
Pettingell,  Nov.  16th,  1670.  Children  ; 
Robert,  born  May  12, 1674  ;  Abraham, 
born  Ma}*  2d,  1676  ;  Isaac,  bora  Feb. 
26th,  1679  ;  Sara,  born  April  15th,  1681 ; 
Matthew,  born"  May  25th,  1686  ;  Israel. 
born  Dec.  25th,  1688  ;  Dorothy,  born 
Oct.  25th,  1691  ;  Richard,  born  Nov. 
22d,  1693.  Matthew,  the  fourth  son 
of  Abraham  Adams,  born  Ma}-  25th, 
1686,  married  Sara  Knight  April  4th, 
1707,  and  was  the  first  physician  in 
what  is  now  West  Newbury,  where  he 
owned  a  large  tract  of  land.  He  died 
Nov.  15th,  1755,  aged  69.  He  had 
two  sons,  Matthew  and  Abraham,  and 
two  daughters ;  one  married  Joseph 
Bartlett,  of  the  west  precinct,  the  other, 
Judith,  married  my  great  grandfather, 
Capt.  Edmund  Little.  Their  daughter, 
Eunice,  married  her  kinsman  Robert 
Adams  of  the  "Farms  District,"  who 
purchased  the  farm  on  Crane-neck  for- 
merly owned  by  my  grea-tnncle  Wil- 
liam Smith.  Mr.  Adams  died  young 
leaving  this  one  son  Robert.  The  Ap 
Adams  arms  are 


ARGENT,  ON  A  CJ!O.<?  GULES,  FIVE  MULLETS  OR. 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


55 


Great  was  the  commotion  over  the 
engagement.  Suddenly  several  people 
made  the  discovery  that  gentle,  quiet 
Aunt  Suke}'  ' '  was  a  sly  thing,  a  real 
artful  piece,  despite  her  demure  ways ; 
still  waters  ran  the  deepest.  They 
guessed  Robert  Adams  would  rue  the 
day  he  married  her,  the  proud  miss,  so 
grand  in  her  airs  the  ground  didn't 
seem  good  enough  for  her  to  tread  on  ! 
No  good  ever  came  of  such  marriages, 
first  cousins  were  altogether  too  near." 
A  series  of  visits  were  vouchsafed  us, 
which  we  well  understood  was  for  the 
express  purpose  of  gleaning  informa- 
tion respecting  the  pros  and  cons  of  the 
affair.  Amongst  these  visitors  were 
two  of  the  old  maid  Hills.  Joseph, 
Joshua,  Nabbie,  Lizzie,  Nannie  and 
Hannah  Hills,  resided  on  a  farm  on  a 
cross  road  beyond  Meeting  House  hill. 
Out  of  this  family,  one  brother,  Mr. 
Eliphelet  Hills,  alone  had  married. 
Mr.  Joseph  and  Joshua  were  pleasant, 
estimable  men.  In  company  with 
mother's  uncle,  John  Merrill  (the  great 
grandfather  of  Ben :  Parley  Poore) , 
Uncle  Josh,  for  }-ears,  took  tea  with  us 
in  the  Thanksgiving  holidays,  when  the 
jolly  pair  smacked  their  lips,  joking 
each  other  about  gormandizing  over 
"  Prudy's  niceties."  The  sisters  were 
precise,  genteel  bodies,  in  their  more 
youthful  days  attired  in  the  tip  of  the 
mode,  greatly  exciting  my  admiration 
as  the}'  followed  one  another  up  the 
broad  aisle  of  the  meeting-house  with 
silks  rustling  and  plumes  waving.  Mrs. 
Liph.  Hills  (a  Miss  Sarah  Wyman 
from  the  vicinity  of  Boston)  was  a 
a  milliner.  She  had  a  shop  in  her  house 
on  the  main  road,  where  she  worked  at 
her  trade,  and  kept  a  variety  of  wares, 
and  her  sisters-in-law  were  famed  for 
their  tasty  head  gear.  They  had  also 


become  noted  for  several  little,  harm- 
less idiosyncrasies.  Some  ideas  re- 
specting housekeeping  were  especially 
ludicrous.  Though  the  food  was  bought 
in  common,  each  brother  and  sister  pro- 
vided their  own  tea  and  coffee,  and 
each  had  a  separate  pot.  Uncle  Joe 
drank  chocolate,  Uncle  Josh,  coffee, 
Miss  Nabby,  strong  old  hyson,  Miss 
Lizzie  liked  hers  weaker,  Miss  Nannie 
preferred  young  hyson,  while  Miss 
Hannah  never  drank  anything  but  Sou- 
chong. It  was  exceedingly  diverting 
to  see  the  six  small  pots,  like  the 
"  four  and  twenty  white  pots  all  in  a 
row,"  sizzling  on  six  little  mounds  of 
embers  before  the  capacious  fire.  Vis- 
itors could  take  their  choice,  or  have  a 
variety.  The  girls  of  the  vicinity  got 
a  deal  of  fun,  from  visiting  the  maid- 
ens, and  taking  a  sip  all  round.  On  a 
wild  March  day,  about  one  o'clock,  in 
the  midst  of  a  smart  snow  squall,  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Nannie's  red 
cloak  whisking  round  the  corner  of  the 
house,  while  Miss  Lizzie,  a  stout, 
heavy  woman,  breathlessly  toiled  in  the 
rear.  I  ran  to  admit  the  visitors,  who 
came  laughing  in,  Miss  Nannie  inquir- 
ing, "if  I  thought  they  snowed  down 
in  the  squall?"  Having  rested  and 
gained  their  breath,  they  divested  them- 
selves of  cloaks  and  hoods,  informing 
us  as  they  did  so  "that  they  had  come 
early  and  must  go  early  ;  they  should 
like  tea  in  good  season."  This  was  an 
invariable  formula,  and  had  passed  into 
a  by- word  amongst  the  lively  young 
people.  Having  become  comfortably 
ensconced  before  the  fire,  their  fine 
company  knitting  in  hand,  the  stream 
of  talk  commenced.  Aunt  Sarah  was 
able  to  crow  over  the  others,  as  she 
had  possessed  Robert  Adams'  confi- 
dence some  weeks  before  his  proposal. 


56 


REMINISCENCES 


' '  She  saw  no  hurt  in  the  young  coup- 
le marrying,  although  the}7  were  near 
relations.  They  were  wholly  dissimi- 
lar in  temperament,  and  strongly  at- 
tached to  each  other.  The  Littles  were 
famous  for  intermarrying ;  she  could 
not  see  that  any  hurt  had  come  of  it. 
Take  them  as  a  whole  they  were  a  pret- 
ty smart  lot."  The  visitors  wisery 
shook  their  heads,  and  as  wisely  con- 
cluded that  the  young  couple  would 
take  their  "ain  gate  "  spite  of  remarks 
or  remonstrance.  The  sisters  had  a 
deal  to  tell  of  the  Daltons  and  Hoop- 
ers, two  distinguished  families,  owning 
two  elegant  country  seats  on  "Pipe 
Stave  Hill."  Mr.  Dalton,  at  that  time 
our  senator  in  Congress,  was  in  Wash- 
ington, but  his  family  were  at  their 
town  residence,  the  fine  old  mansion 
opposite  the  Merrimac  House  in  New- 
buryport.  The  Hoopers  remained 
through  the  year  in  the  country.  Sev- 
eral gay  sleighing  parties  had  ridden 
up  to  the  farm  during  the  winter ;  the 
spacious  residence  had  been  the  scene 
of  much  convivial  festivity.  Madam 
Hooper  had  also  spent  some  weeks  in 
Boston.  A  detailed  account  of  the 
splendor  of  the  wardrobe  prepared  for 
this  excursion  was  given  and  various 
other  on  dits  of  fashionable  life,  and 
city  and  town  gossip  related.  Punctu- 
ally at  four  o'clock,  tea  was  on  the  ta- 
ble ;  the  ladies  having  regaled  them- 
selves, and  duly  praised  the  -viands,  es- 
pecially the  plum  cake  and  the  cheese 
—  "Mr.  Newell  said  Prudy  Smith's 
cheese  commanded  the  highest  price  in 
the  market  at  the  Port" — took  their 
leave  in  high  good  humor.  Drawing 
their  hoods  over  their  noses,  and  wrap- 
ping their  thick,  red  cloaks  about  them, 
they  declared  that  the}1  should  be  "as 
warm  as  toast ;  the  wind  would  drive 


them  home,  and  they  should  get  there 
in  grand  good  season." 

A  few  mornings  after  this  visit,  we 
received  a  great  scare.  I  went  into  the 
garret,  and,  glancing  out  of  the  win- 
dow, to  my  amazement  and  fright,  I 
discerned  a  dense  smoke  rising  from 
Mr.  Oliver  Dole's  pasture,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill.  I  lost  no  time  in  hastening 
down  and  spreading  the  alarm.  Fath- 
er, Uncle  Enoch,  and  Uncle  Thurrel's 
folks  hurried  over  to  their  neighbors. 
As  the  wind,  which  had  blown  at  sun- 
rise, had  increased  to  a  gale,  the  pro- 
gress of  the  flames  was  eagerly  watched. 
How  that  pasture  came  to  be  burning 
we  could  not  imagine,  but  the  fire  soon 
spent  itself,  and  the  return  of  the  gen- 
tlemen solved  the  mystery.  The  en- 
closure had  grown  over  to  huckleberry 
bushes ;  in  the  season,  people  came  to 
pick  the  berries.  Mrs.  Dole  was  a 
Carlton,  from  the  main  road,  and  she 
had  man}'  visitors.  Wagonful  after 
wagonful  of  women  and  children  would 
ride  over,  put  the  horse  in  the  barn,  go 
into  the  pasture  and  fill  their  baskets 
with  huckleberries,  then  come  back  to 
the  house  to  tea.  This,  in  the  busy  hay 
season,  was  somewhat  inconvenient, 
especially  as  Mrs.  Dole  was  not  a  veiT 
strong  woman.  Mr.  Dole,  though 
neither  a  morose  nor  stingy  man,  lost 
his  patience,  and  declared  a  stop  should 
be  put  to  this  ' '  huckleberrying  visita- 
tion." Accordingly,  he  set  fire  to  his 
bushes,  thinking  to  totally  destroy 
them ;  but,  instead,  the  rising  wind 
sent  the  flames  lightl}'  over  the  brush- 
wood, without  touching  the  roots,  and 
the  result  was  a  splendid  growth  of 
bushes  and  an  abundant  quantity  of 
the  largest  and  most  luscious  fruit. 
Mrs.  Dole  and  the  neighbors  had  much 
sport  respecting  the  result  of  her  hus- 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


57 


band's  destructive  efforts.  Mrs.  Dole 
said :  ' '  Providence  did  not  smile  on 
his  inhospitable  intent."  The  children 
had  grown  large  enough  to  pick,  and 
the  berries  were  so  nice,  Mr.  Dole  mar- 
keted them  at  the  Port  to  much  advan- 
tage, besides  entertaining  the  visitors. 
Owners  of  old  huckleberry  pastures 
could  take  a  hint,  and,  by  copying  Mr. 
Dole's  mode  of  culture,  improve  what 
in  these  days  has  become  quite  a  desid- 
eratum in  the  market. 


CHAFfER  XV. 

One  of  the  great  institutions  of  those 
days  was  the  spring  and  fall  trainings. 
There  were  company  musters  at  the 
training  field  on  the  main  road  in  May 
and  September,  and  a  regimental  re- 
view at  the  Plains  some  time  in  au- 
tumn. The  officers  of  these  militia 
companies  alone  wore  uniforms,  the  pri- 
vates mostly  turned  out  in  their  Sun- 
day suits.  The  musket  in  those  days 
was  fired  by  a  flint,  the  spark  from 
which  lighted  the  priming  in  a  little  ex- 
ternal pan  connected  with  the  interior 
charge  through  a  small  vent.  A  prim- 
ing wire  about  the  size  of  a  common 
knitting  needle,  and  a  little  brush  two 
inches  long,  which  hung  by  a  brass 
chain  to  the  belt,  were  used  to  keep 
the  vent  clear  and  the  pan  clean.  These 
training  days  were  the  occasion  for  a 
general  frolic,  especially  the  reviews. 
General  trainings  drew  a  motley  crowd, 
venders  of  all  sorts  of  wares,  mounte- 
banks and  lewd  women ;  a  promis- 
cuous assemblage,  bent  upon  pleasure. 
Beyond  the  lines  there  was  always 
much  carousing  and  hilarious  uproar. 

8 


Many  customs  were  then  in  vogup,  now 
obsolete  in  military  circles,  such  as  fir- 
ing at  the  legs  of  an  officer  at  his  ap- 
pointment to  test  his  courage,  and  fir- 
ing a  salute  before  the  residence  of  a 
new  officer  at  sunrise  on  the  morning 
of  training  day.  Of  course  the  recipi- 
ent of  these  honors  was  expected  to 
give  a  treat.  Many  a  poor  fellow  be- 
came somewhat  "onsteady"  before  the 
da}'  had  far  advanced,  and  more  were 
hors-du-combat  ere  it  had  closed.  Ac- 
cidents often  occurred.  One  officer, 
from  the  careless  loading  of  a  gun,  re- 
ceived a  severe  wound  in  the  leg,  and 
Mr.  Oliver  Pillsbury  had  several  lights 
in  his  new  house  broken  at  a  salute  in 
honor  of  his  attaining  a  lieutenancy. 
At  this  review  there  was  a  large  caval- 
ry company,  including  members  from 
both  Newburyport  and  Newbury.  New- 
buryport  had  one  uniformed  company, 
the  artillery.  I  very  well  remember  how 
imposing  they  looked  to  Taj  childish 
eyes  as  they  marched  onto  the  muster 
field  at  the  plains,  to  the  music  of  fife 
and  drum,  with  waving  flag,  and  fol- 
lowed by  their  field  pieces.  The  regi- 
mental bands  were  then  unknown.  The 
foot  soldiers  marched  to  the  fife  and 
drum,  the  cavalry  to  the  notes  of  the 
bugle.  Colby  Rogers  was  trumpeter 
for  the  troops  for  many  years.  The 
Governor  and  staff  and  many  distin- 
guished guests  were  present  on  the 
great  day  I  have  recalled.  A  public 
dinner  was  given  and  the  festivities 
were  closed  by  a  grand  ball  in  the  even- 
ing. 

I  was  about  seven  years  old  when 
this  militia  system  was  organized,  and 
well  do  I  remember  the  sensation  pro- 
duced by  the  officers  of  our  company 
presenting  themselves  at  meeting,  the 
Sunday  preceding  the  fall  training,  in 


REMINISCENCES 


their  .new  uniforms.  Somerby  Chase 
was  captain ;  Amos  Carltori,  lieuten- 
ant ;  Paul  Bailey,  ensign ;  John  Pea- 
body,  Josiah  Hill,  Caleb  Chase,  and 
Moses  Carr,  first,  second,  third  and 
fourth  lieutenants ;  Mr.  Bill  Hill  was 
brigade  quartermaster.  Capt.  Good- 
rich, though  he  had  not  then  attained 
that  title,  was  an  officer  in  the  cavalry, 
and  he  came  out  in  the  new  troopers' 
uniform,  a  red  coat,  buff  vest  and 
pants,  black  leather  cap  trimmed  with 
bear  skin,  and  a  tall,  stiff,  straight, 
red  plume.  This  was  a  splendid  sight 
for  our  unsophisticated  country  folks, 
and  I  fear  little  attention  was  given  to 
the  sermon. 

The  tedium  of  the  summer  work  was 
relieved  by  the  cutting,  curing  and 
boating  the  salt  hay  from  the  Plum 
Island  marsh.  Ever}-  farmer  then 
owned  more  or  less  of  salt  meadow  ;  no 
one  thought  of  wintering  stock  without 
salt  haj-.  Though  this  brought  much 
heavy  labor  to  both  men  and  women, 
it  was  a  break  in  the  monotony  of  the 
daily  round  of  toil,  and  for  the  males,  a 
change  of  air  and  scene  which  my  fath- 
er considered  most  beneficial. 

Our  hired  help  were  men  from  the 
small  hamlet  in  the  woods,  beyond  the 
pond,  called  Dogtown,  and  good,  hon- 
est, trust}*  laborers  they  were.  Uncle 
Burrel  was  father's  chief  factotum,  but 
Joe  Gould,  Amos  Pillsbury,  Oliver 
Goodrich  and  the  Rogerses  were  also 
employed.  The  rate  of  wages  was 
about  fifty  cents  a  day  and  board, 
through  the  six  working  days ;  they 
slept  and  spent  the  Sabbath  at  home. 
They  often  preferred  to  receive  their 
pay  in  the  products  of  the  farm,  such 
as  corn,  Indian  meal,  potatoes,  pork, 
and  a  little  butter.  This  was  a  mutual 
convenience,  and  the  best  of  feelings 


and  the  most  friendly  terms  were  al- 
ways maintained  between  the  employer 
and  the  employed.  Dogtown  was  two 
miles  distant  from  Crane-neck,  and, 
after  passing  Dole's  pond,  the  road  ran 
through  thick  woods.  This,  on  some 
dark  and  stormy  nights,  was  rather 
bug-a-booish,  and  on  one  occasion  old 
Pillsbury  got  a  terrible  scare,  from 
which  he  never  became  wholly  relieved. 
We  were  at  breakfast  when  he  entered 
one  morning,  looking  frightened,  and 
pale.  "What  is  the  matter?"  was  in- 
stantly queried.  The  old  man  lisped 
slightly:  "Oh,  Mr.  Smith,  I  see  a  ter- 
rible critter  in  the  woods  bey  ant  the 
pond  last  night." 

"A  terrible  critter,  Pillsbury?  What 
was  it  like?"  father  inquired. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Smith,  it  was  a  terrible 
big  critter,  as  big  as  Brindle's  calf;  its 
eyes  were  like  fire  coals,  and  it  ran 
past  me  through  the  bushes,  about  a 
rod  from  the  road,  with  every  hair 
whistling  like  a  bell.  It  must  have 
been  the  wolverine." 

"The  what,  Pillsbury?" 

"The  wolverine.  My  old  granny 
used  to  keep  us  young  'uns  quiet  with 
stories  about  the  wolverine  out  beyant 
in  the  woods.  I  used  to  be  afeared  to 
stir  ten  yards  from  the  door  o'  nights  ; 
but,  as  I  had  never  seen  the  critter 
afore,  I  had  begun  to  think  it  was  one 
of  granny's  stories,  but  I  seed  him  last 
night,  sartin  sure  ;  and  his  eyes  were 
like  fire  coals,  and  every  hair  whistled 
like  a  bell." 

The  old  man  was  so  sure  that  he  had 
met  some  strange  animal  that  the  neigh- 
boring men  turned  out  that  night,  each 
armed  and  equipped  for  a  deadly  en- 
counter with  some  ferocious  beast,  but 
nothing  was  found ;  and,  though  the 
quest  was  continued  by  the  young  men 


OF    A   NOHAGE^ARIAN. 


59 


and  boys  for  several  evenings,  no 
strange  animal  was  ever  discovered. 
But  old  Pillsbury,  to  his  dying  da}', 
used  to  declare  there  was  ' '  a  wolverine 
in  them  woods,  with  eyes  like  coals  of 
fire,  and  ever}'  hair  whistling  like  a 
bell,"  and  nothing  conld  ever  again  in- 
duce the  old  man  to  travel  the  road 
alone  after  nightfall. 

Father's  salt  meadow  was  at  Hale's 
cove.  Grandsir  Little  owned  one  be- 
low, in  Rowley,  and  which,  as  shoe- 
making  was  brisk,  father  cut  for  sever- 
al years  in  addition  to  his  own.  The 
English  hay  in  the  barn,  the  grain 
reaped  and  the  flax  pulled,  towards  the 
last  of  August  or  the  first  of  Septem- 
ber, according  to  the  tides,  the  salt  hay 
season  began.  Father  and  the  other 
mowers — these  were  neighbors,  adepts 
in  mowing,  to  whom  the  highest  wages, 
a  dollar  a  day,  was  paid  —  rode  to  Old- 
town  bridge ;  the  horse  having  been 
stabled  in  one  of  the  adjacent  barns, 
Plum  Island  river  was  crossed  in  a 
wherry  hired  for  the  day,  and  the  work 
commenced.  There  was  a  sufficiency 
of  hands  to  cut  the  grass  before  sun- 
set. Having  been  left  to  dry  for  a  day 
or  so,  another  day  was  devoted  to  cur-' 
ing  it ;  then  came  the  boating.  This 
was  the  grand  epoch.  Nice  food  was 
provided  for  the  mowers  and  rakers, 
but  boating  brought  a  dog-days  Thanks- 
giving  baking.  Mince  pies,  plum  cake, 
rich  doughnuts,  nice  meats,  baked  beans 
and  other  tempting  viands  were  packed 
in  a  wooden  chest,  along  with  a  small 
keg  of  cider  and  a  bottle  of  "Santa 
Cruz"  or  "Jamaica."  Many  fanners 
would  have  thought  it  impossible  to 
get  a  freight  without  a  gallon  or  more 
of  rum,  but  father  was  a  temperate 
man,  and  careful  not  to  put  any  temp- 
tation before  those  in  his  employ.  The 


gondola  laid  at  the  foot  of  "Whetstone 
lane  ;  if  the  weather  proved  auspicious 
the  freight  was  usually  at  the  landing  in 
thirty-six  hours.  The  neighbors  turned 
out  with  their  teams,  and  the  hay  was 
carted  home,  a  distance  of  two  miles, 
in  a  triumphant  procession.  The  mow 
laid,  the  supper,  a  most  jovial  enter- 
tainment, was  disposed  of,  and  the 
weary  men  separated  with  the  declara- 
tion that  a  "good  job,  well  over,"  had 
been  completed.  Though  this  hay  sea- 
son gave  additional  toil  to  the  women 
of  the  household,  it  also  brought  long 
leisure  days  ;  after  the  men  were  finally 
off  in  the  early  morning  and  the  work 
done,  the  rest  of  the  da}'  was  often  de- 
voted to  visiting. 

Father  had  been  boating  Grandsir  Lit- 
tle's hay.  I  was  there  to  assist,  when 
we  received  an  afternoon  visit  from 
two  neighbors — the  Misses  Hill — elder- 
ly young  ladies,  very  genteel  and  prer 
cise.  The  conversation  turned  upon 
the  universal  topic,  the  haying.  The 
visitors  expressed  much  disgust  at  the 
whole  business.  "  The  toil  of  cooking 
iu  such  hot  weather  was  so  undesira- 
ble, and  so  much  food  must  be  provid- 
ed, it  was  not  possible  to  prevent  some 
from  being  uneaten,  but  they  always 
threw  that  away ;  they  never  could 
stomach  anything  after  it  had  been 
packed  for  the  meadows."  As  the 
family  were  not  noted  for  an  overabun- 
dance in  their  larder  at  any  time,  and 
the  ' '  short  commons  "  given  to  their 
hired  help  was  proverbial,  we  were 
rather  diverted  at  their  remarks.  It 
so  chanced  that  when  the  provision 
chest  had  been  unloaded  the  previous 
evening,  a  mince  pie,  a  loaf  of  cake 
and  a  plate  of  doughnuts  had  been  ta- 
ken out.  These  with  many  sly  glances 
to  her  mother,  sister  and  myself,  Aunt 


60 


REMINISCENCES 


Hannah  placed  upon  the  tea  table. 
The  visitors  enjoyed  their  supper  ex- 
ceedingly, helped  themselves  twice  to 
the  plum  cake — "Mrs.  Little's  raised 
cake  was  alwaj-s  so  nice,  so  much  bet- 
ter than  they  could  make  ;  she  had  the 
'  knack '  for  this ;"  the  other  edibles 
were  equally  eulogized.  At  early  dusk, 
in  time  for  milking,  our  visitors  left  us, 
without  the  least  idea  that  the}'  had 
been  feasting  on  ' '  horrid  meadow  vict- 
uals." 

In  October  Aunt  Suke}-  was  mar- 
ried. She  had  a  very  quiet  wedding, 
and  as  the  new  house  was  completed, 
the  young  couple  took  immediate  pos- 
session. The  new  home  was  only  a 
few  rods  from  the  old  one  ;  though  so 
near,  still,  the  bride's  absence  from  the 
paternal  hearth  caused  a  serious  vacu- 
um in  the  household.  Uncle  Bill  mar- 
ried the  j'ear  after  Aunt  Betsy ;  now 
only  Hannah.  Ben  and  Joe  remained. 
Though  Sukey  was  the  most  retiring 
and  reticent  of  the  family,  she  had  been 
exceedingly  efficient,  and  she  was 
missed  even*  hour  of  the  day  in  a  mul- 
tiplicity of  matters.  Some  question 
respecting  the  weather  had  been  moot- 
ed ;  it  was  referred  to  grandsir :  "  I  do 
not  know,  Robert  carried  away  our  al- 
manac," was  his  reply.  Much  sur- 
prised, I  cast  my  eyes  to  the  nail  by 
the  fireplace  where  the  family  calender 
always  hung.  It  was  in  its  place. 
Grandsir  caught  my  look  of  wonder, 
and  the  twinkle  of  his  eyes  gave  me 
the  hint.  Sure  enough  !  Robert  had 
not  only  earned  away  the  almanac,  but 
a  whole  treatise  of  wisdom  and  pru- 
dence beside. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

April   brought  the   annual   "Fast." 


To  overtasked  or  parsimonious  house- 
keepers this  might  be  a  welcome  holi- 
day, on  which  they  could  sj-mpathize 
with  old  Mrs.  Tom  Pike  of  Byfield, 
who  declared  ' '  she'd  rnther  have 
two  Fasts  than  one  Thanksgivin',"  but 
to  the  3'oung  folks  and  children,  the 
da}-  was  somewhat  of  a  bug-bear.  In 
some  families  of  the  "stricter  sort," 
the  children  were  wont  to  surreptitious- 
ly store  a  quantity  of  food  against  the 
hungry  day.  The  Perley  boj'S  of  By- 
field  always  contrived  to  lay  by  salt 
fish  and  crackers  in  the  hay  mow.  and 
other  young  people  of  my  acquaintance 
managed  to  obtain  a  luncheon  between 
the  meetings.  The  late  Deacon  Jo- 
seph Hale  of  Byfield,  often  related  an 
incident  of  a  Fast  day  of  his  boyhood. 
Having  accompanied  the  sons  of  the 
Rev.  Moses  Parsons  to  the  parsonage 
to  spend  the  noon  intermission,  some- 
what to  his  surprise,  if  not  horror, 
those  young  gentleman  stealthily  enter- 
tained him  and  supplied  themselves 
with  a  hearty  meal.  Having  become 
fairly  gorged  with  good  cheer,  they 
seated  themselves  quietly  in  the  kitch- 
en. As  the  hour  for  the  afternoon  ser- 
vice approached,  the  good  parson,  with 
a  kindly  regard  for  youthful  stomachs. 
came  into  the  room  and  told  the  boys, 
' '  that  if  they  were  very  hungry  he 
would  permit  a  slight  lunch."  This  the 
young  scamps  piously  declined,  "  not 
wishing  to  make  any  infringement  on 
the  religious  observance  of  the  day," 
and  their  clerical  papa  entered  upon  the 
afternoon  duties,  in  the  full  satisfaction 
of  possessing  sons  worthy  of  a  sire's 
confidence  and  approbation.  In  most 
households,  the  breakfast  over,  a  pot 
of  beans  and  an  Indian  pudding  were 
put  in  the  oven  ;  the  morning  chores 
done,  a  sabbatical  silence  settled  over 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


(31 


the  household.  At  eleven  o'clock  ev- 
ery one  repaired  to  the  meeting-house  ; 
as  there  was  but  an  hour's  intermission 
between  the  services,  few  left  the  sanc- 
tuary. The  men  gathered  round  the 
door  steps,  discussing  local  topics 
or  national  affairs,  the  women  congre- 
gated in  the  pews,  to  talk  over  house- 
hold matters  and  the  gossip  of  the 
neighborhood.  If  it  was  a  warm  day, 
the  girls  gathered  on  the  sunn}-  side  of 
the  meetinghouse,  where  many  sly  glan- 
ces were  exchanged  with  the  group  of 
3"oung  men  by  the  horse  block.  If  it 
chanced  to  be  cold  they  also  sought  the 
pews,  and  in  groups  discussed  fashion 
and  the  beaux,  but  with  a  demure  air, 
and  in  low  tones  as  befitted  the  occa- 
sion. 

The  clerg}-men  generally  embraced 
this  opportunity  for  some  particular 
theme,  some  peculiar  shortcoming  eith- 
er of  a  local  or  political  nature.  Dr. 
Elijah  Parish  was  famed  for  his  "  Fast " 
sermons.  People  used  to  flock  to  By- 
field  meeting-house  to  hear  the  doctor's 
diatribes  against  Jacobin  misrule  and 
French  infidelity.  The  afternoon  ser- 
vice over,  the  hungry  multitude  hast- 
ened home  to  the  beans  and  pudding 
which  were  nicely  smoking  in  the  oven. 
How  the  gravel  stones  of  the  rough 
road  would  fly  as  the  impatient  steeds 
sped  down  the  precipitous  descent  to 
the  peril  of  life  and  limb.  Supper  and 
milking  through,  the  evening  was  spent 
in  reading  and  conversation.  I  should 
not  have  dared  to  have  taken  a  needle 
in  hand  on  Fast  day.  To  the  horror  of 
the  community,  one  Fast  evening, 
"Bartlett's  boys"  and  some  other 
young  men  went  over  to  "Gunket," 
and  played  ball  after  supper.  One  of 
the  number,  Enoch  Hale,  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  sprain  his  arm,  and  was  una- 


ble to  work  for  some  months.  This 
was  regarded  as  a  special  mark  of  Di- 
vine displeasure,  a  signal  judgment 
for  a  heinous  crime. 

That  spring  brought  a  new  fashion 
in  head  gear.  Straw  bonnets  came  in- 
to vogue.  Peabody,  Waterman  &  Co. 
received  an  invoice  from  England,  and 
Mrs.  Peabody  presented  one  to  her  sis- 
ter Hannah.  I  greatly  admired  this 
bonnet,  but  mother  said  she  could  not 
afford  to  buy  me  one  that  season. 
Aunt  Sarah,  noticing  nry  discontented 
visage,  inquired  the  cause,  at  which 
she  signified  her  readiness  to  teach  me 
to  braid  straw,  and  make  myself  a  bon- 
net. Much  surprised,  I  asked  how  she 
had  learned.  "  As  I  have  most  things, 
I  taught  myself,"  was  the  reply.  "Dur- 
ing the  Revolutionary  war  two  British 
cruisers  for  two  days  lay  off  the  mouth 
of  the  Merrimac.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  "Port"  were  greatly  alarmed,  mo- 
mentarily expecting  a  bombardment. 
Your  great-aunt  Mollie  Noyes  packed 
her  effects,  and,  with  her  children,  came 
here.  Though  the  men-of-war  with- 
drew without  any  demonstration,  as  the 
news  immediately  came  that  Captain 
Noyes's  vessel  had  been  captured,  and 
himself  and  crew  were  prisoners  at 
Dartmoor,  Mrs.  Noyes  remained  some 
time.  Your  father  was  troubled  with 
headache,  and  often  complained  of 
the  heat  of  his  wool  hat.  One  day 
during  haying,  Aunt  Noyes  brought 
him  a  straw  hat,  which  she  said 
Captain  Noyes  had  brought  from  for- 
eign parts.  After  it  was  worn  out 
your  father  missed  it  so  much  that  the 
idea  struck  me  of  braiding  one.  We 
had  a  field  of  oats.  I  cut  some  straw, 
took  the  old  hat,  and,  after  patiently 
unbraiding  and  braiding  for  a  time,  at 
length  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  se- 


REMINISCENCES 


cret.  I  braided  and  sewed  a  hat,  which, 
though  not  as  handsome  as  the  foreign 
one,  did  very  well.  I  braided  several, 
and  can  teach  }~ou.  When  the  oats 
are  large  enough  to  cut  you  can  make  a 
prett}-  bonnet." 

Mother  tried  to  dissuade  me  from 
this  project.  She  didn't  believe  I  could 
' '  make  anything  decent."  I  was  strong 
in  faith,  and  my  aunt  upheld  this  de- 
termination. As  soon  as  the  straw  was 
ripe  I  began  to  plait,  and  soon  had 
sufficient  for  a  bonnet.  The  straw 
was  finer  than  Aunt  Hannah's,  but,  as 
no  knowledge  of  bleaching  had  been 
obtained,  it  was  not  as  white  ;  still,  it 
looked  very  weh1.  Aunt  Sarah  fash- 
ioned it  in  the  prevailing  mode,  but  a 
difficulty  arose  respecting  pressing. 
The  front  was  easily  managed,  but  how 
could  the  crown  be  shaped?  Aunt  Sa- 
rah was  a  person  of  expedients  ;  I  nev- 
er knew  her  frustrated  in  anything  she 
set  about.  A  mortar  was  turned  bot- 
tom upward,  paper  fitted  over  it,  and 
the  crown  shaped  to  the  requisite  form. 
I  was  jubilant  over  this  bonnet,  and 
my  aunt  Peabody  sent  a  white  ribbon 
to  trim  it,  like  Aunt  Hannah's.  Neith- 
er before  nor  after  do  I  think  I  was  ever 
so  proud  of  an  article  of  dress  as  I  was 
of  that  bonnet.  After  this  we  cut  a 
quantity  of  straw,  and  I  braided  father 
a  hat. 

This  summer  was  memorable  for  the 
dismissal  of  our  district  school  teacher. 
Joseph  Adams,  a  young  man  of  nine- 
teen, and  nephew  of  Mrs.  Oliver  Dole, 
had  been  hired  to  teach  the  summer 
school.  He  professed  great  piety,  and 
maintained  a  grave  demeanor,  which, 
in  school,  grew  into  an  imperial  stern- 
ness, a  manner  not  calculated  to  win 
the  scholars'  affections.  Many  of  the 
parents  became  dissatisfied  after  the 


first  few  days.  My  father  declared  the 
teacher  wholly  unfit  for  his  place  ;  but 
the  summer  school  was  short,  and,  from 
respect  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dole,  nothing 
was  said  until  I  rebelled.  There  were 
about  half  a  dozen  girls  in  their  teens 
in  the  school ;  and,  about  the  third 
week  of  the  term,  Master  Adams 
brought  a  book,  from  which  he  pro- 
posed that  we  should  read  selec- 
tions. This  exercise  was  in  addition 
to  the  regular  course.  I  have  forgot- 
ten the  title  of  the  book,  but  it  was 
some  religious  treatise.  Having  ranged 
the  class  before  his  desk,  he  took  the 
book,  and,  standing  behind  the  pupil, 
he  passed  his  arms  around  her  neck, 
holding  it  before  her,  while  he  correct- 
ed the  errors  of  pronunciation  and 
enunciation.  A  sentence  having  been 
read,  he  passed  to  the  second,  and  so 
down  the  class.  Being  the  youngest. 
I  was  the  last.  The  dresses  were  at 
that  time  cut  low  in  the  neck,  and  I 
immediately  saw  that  the  young  man's 
gaze  was  not  constantly  fixed  upon  the 
book,  and  I  determined  that  his  arms 
should  not  go  round  me  in  that  man- 
ner ;  I  would  either  hold  the  book  or 
not  read.  When  my  turn  came  I  sig- 
nified this  decision.  The  master  turned 
as  red,  and  bristled  up  like  a  turkey 
"  cock  ;  but  my  resolution  could  not  be 
shaken,  and  a  compromise  was  effected, 
he  holding  one  side  of  the  book  and  I 
the  other.  Father  said  that  I  had  done 
right ;  I  might  do  as  I  pleased  respect- 
ing the  reading ;  it  was  not  a  regular 
school  exercise,  and  the  master  had  no 
right  to  force  me.  Accordingly,  the 
next  afternoon,  I  declined  to  join  the 
class.  The  master  began  to  threaten, 
but  soon  saw  he  could  not  use  coercion. 
Thenceforth  I  was  permitted  to  pursue 
my  own  course,  but  I  immediate ly  per- 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


ceived  that  I  had  become  a  special  ob- 
ject of  enmit}- ;  a  spite  that  was  ex- 
tended to  the  other  and  younger  mem- 
bers of  my  family.  My  brother  James 
was  menaced  with  a  whipping  for  a 
slight  misdemeanor,  but  the  sturdy  boy 
threatened  his  father's  vengeance  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  master  wisely 
desisted.  Still,  I  could  see  the  smoth- 
ered wrath,  ready  to  seize  the  first  op- 
portunity when  it  could  find  vent. 
The  opportunit}'  was  at  length  taken. 
My  uncle,  Enoch  Smith,  had  married, 
some  years  previous,  Miss  Hannah 
Woodman.  Their  two  sons,  Samuel 
and  Moses,  attended  school.  Moses 
was  a  poor,  little,  puny  boy  of  five 
years,  a  delicate,  sickly  child  from  in- 
fancy, but  of  a  quiet  and  amiable  dis- 
position, and,  having  a  wholesome 
dread  of  Master  Adams,  he  was  the 
ast  one  to  have  made  a  disturbance. 
Diah  Dole,  the  great  dunce,  that  Mas- 
ter Chase  thumped  and  shook  so  un- 
mercifully, was  fully  double  in  age. 
He  occupied  a  front  desK ;  Moses  sat 
on  the  low  form  in  front  of  that.  One 
afternoon,  soon  after  the  school  was 
called  to  order,  Diah  spat  upon  the 
floor,  and  with  his  toe  (he  was  bare- 
foot) marked  out  a  figure  in  the  aisle, 
then,  contrary  to  rules,  leaned  forward 
and  whispered:  "Mose,  look  at  my 
cock ;  I  've  made  a  cock,  a  biddy." 
The  little  boy  glanced  from  his  primer, 
and,  with  a  look  of  disdain,  drew  his 
shoe  over  the  figure.  Diah,  with  an 
angry  push,  said :  ' '  You  have  spoiled 
my  cock ! "  Moses  put  up  his  hand 
and  slapped  Diah's  face.  The  master 
flew  from  his  desk,  shook  Moses  un- 
mercifully, and  told  Diah  to  mind  his 
book.  At  recess  he  directed  Moses  to 
bring  him  a  rod  from  a  bush  by  the 
roadside.  The  unsuspecting  child 


obeyed.  I  thought  he  was  to  be 
whipped  then,  but  the  punishment  was 
held  in  reserve.  I  had  hoped  that  my 
suspicions  had  been  groundless,  that 
Moses  would  not  receive  chastisement ; 
but  I  found,  when  school  was  dismissed, 
the  little  boy  was  retained.  I  hurried 
home  to  inform  his  mother.  It  was 
such  a  trivial  thing  Aunt  Smith  paid 
little  heed,  but  I  kept  an  outlook,  and 
after  a  while  I  espied  Moses  creeping 
up  the  lane ;  dragging  his  little  feet 
wearily  along,  he  sank  upon  a  log  just 
inside  the  gate.  I  ran  to  him.  He 
gazed  stupidly  into  my  face,  and,  with 
a  piteous  moan,  sank  fainting  into  my 
arms.  My  cries  aroused  the  family  ; 
the  child  was  taken  to  the  house,  and 
the  plrysician  summoned.  Conscious- 
ness was  restored,  but  the  poor  little 
back  was  shockingly  mangled,  and 
vomiting  continued  at  intervals  through 
the  night.  Dr.  Eoore  looked  gruff  and 
glum,  and  took  so  much  snuff  I  thought 
he  must  choke.  After  a  time  he  ex- 
pressed a  hope  of  the  little  boy's  recov- 
ery, but  his  maledictions  on  the  cruel 
teacher  were  both  loud  and  deep — "the 
infernal  scoundrel ;  he  would  like  to 
seat  him  in  the  pillory  and  thrash  him 
within  an  inch  of  his  life  !  "  This  in- 
dignation was  universal.  There  was 
not  time  to  call  a  regular  school  meet- 
ing that  evening,  but  the  gentlemen  of 
the  neighborhood  (they  all  had  come 
in  to  see  Moses)  agreed  to  meet  at  the 
school-house  the  next  morning  and  for- 
bid Master  Adams  entrance.  Accord- 
ingly, when  the  young  man  opened  the 
door,  he  found  himself  confronted  by 
half  a  dozen  of  the  influential  men  of 
the  town,  who  informed  him  that  his 
services  were  no  longer  required  ;  that 
his  presence  in  that  house  would  not  be 
permitted.  The  discomfitted  teacher 


64 


REMINISCENCES 


for  a  time  was  terribly  angry  and  defi- 
ant, but  at  length  was  obliged  to  yield. 
At  a  school  meeting  in  the  evening  he 
was  deposed  by  a  unanimous  vote. 
Uncle  Enoch  sued  Mr.  Adams,  and  the 
case  was  tried  at  the  September  term 
in  Newbinyport.  The  master  was  sen- 
tenced to  pay  the  costs  of  court  and 
sixty  dollars.  The  money  was  put  in 
the  bank  for  Moses,  and  Mr.  Adams, 
unable  to  procure  a  school,  was  obliged 
to  lower  his  aspirations  and  obtain  a 
livelihood  on  the  seat  of  a  shoemaker's 
bench. 

I  recall  an  incident  that  occurred 
during  this  trial.  Father  and  Uncle 
Enoch  returned  one  night  from  town, 
declaring  that  they  had  that  day  wit- 
nessed a  sight  that  never  had  been  seen 
before  and  never  would  be  again.  A 
vessel  belonging  to  the  then  flourishing 
firm  of  Farris  &  Stocker  had  arrived 
from  South  America,  and  their  super- 
cargo, Mr.  Oliver  Putnam  (since  the 
founder  of  the  Putnam  Free  School) , 
had  brought  by  it  a  large  sum  of  mon- 
ey. The  Spanish  government  had  pro- 
hibited the  exportation  of  bullion,  and 
Mr.  Putnam  had  concealed  the  silver  in 
the  sides  of  the  vessel.  Carpenters 
were  set  to  work  to  tear  off  the  sheath- 
ing, and  the* Spanish  dollars,  turned  as 
black  as  ink,  Avere  taken  in  bushel  bas- 
kets and  carried  between  two  men,  to 
be  cleansed  in  a  large  cauldron,  bor- 
rowed from  a  soap  boiler's  establish- 
ment, which  was  placed  over  a  fire  kin- 
dled for  that  purpose  in  Market  square. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Though  years  had  elapsed,  the  mal- 
contents of  the  parish  had  not  buried 
their  discontent.  Parson  Woods  had 


failed  to  gain  either  their  approval  or 
regard.  A  printed  sermon  in  which 
''bawdy  French  fashions"  were  se- 
vere 1}'  denounced  had  given  umbrage 
to  a  large  number  of  the  young  people, 
who  declared  that  the  language  used  in 
this  public  reprimand  was  more  inde- 
cent than  any  thing  they  had  ever  dis- 
plaA'ed  in  dress  or  manner.  The  cler- 
gyman had  become  noted  for  a  too 
large  development  of  the  organ  of  ac- 
quisitiveness ;  he  was  accused  of  ef- 
forts to  serve  mammon  as  well  as  the 
Lord.  In  families  where  the  pastor 
was  held  in  high  regard  by  the  mistress 
of  the  mansion  complaints  were  often 
made  by  the  other  members  of  an  un- 
due generosity-  towards  the  household 
at  the  parsonage.  I  had  a  3'ouug 
friend  whose  residence  was  near,  and 
she  declared  she  could  never  have  a 
fresh  egg  to  make  cake,  and  that  her 
mother  really  denied  herself  necessa- 
ries to  suppl}-  the  minister  with  luxu- 
ries. A  story  flew  like  wildfire  over 
the  parish,  »to  the  effect  that  Parson 
Woods  had  made  several  calls  one  af- 
ternoon, and  at  each  place  asked  for  a 
small  piece  of  cheese,  as  Mrs.  Woods 
had  company  from  out  of  town  ;  that 
at  each  house  he  had  been  presented 
with  a  whole  cheese,  and  that  after  the 
last  visit,  as  he  drove  from  the  door, 
his  sleigh  tipped  upon  a  drift,  when  lo  ! 
nine  cheeses  rolled  from  beneath  the 
checked  coverlet  which  served  as  a 
sleigh  robe.  Another  subject  of  ef- 
front  was  the  sale  of  turkeys  presented 
at  Thanksgiving.  This  autumn  the 
minister  declared  he  could  not  afford 
to  keep  a  horse  !  At  the  announcement 
Mr.  Josiah  Bartlett,  Mr.  Joseph  New- 
ell and  Mr.  Paul  Bailey  each  sent  him 
a  ton  of  hay,  but  in  a  short  time  both 
the  horse  and  the  hay  were  sold.  The 


OF   A 


65 


next  complaint  was  a  lack  of  fuel. 
The  usual  quantities  which  had  sup- 
plied his  predecessors  was  said  to  be 
insufficient ;  consequently  two  addi- 
tional loads  were  draAvn.  Lieut.  Jo- 
seph Noyes,  an  old  revolutionary  offi- 
cer, was  employed  to  saw  and  split  the 
wood.  The  morning  that  he  com- 
menced work  Parson  Woods  went  into 
the  yard,  and  after  looking  over  the 
pile  he  said,  "Lieutenant,  here  are 
some  nice  logs,  too  good  for  fire- wood, 
it  would  be  a  pity  to  burn  them  ;  here 
are  three  or  four  just  right  for  trunnels, 
put  them  aside,  they  are  too  nice  for 
fuel." 

The  lieutenant  made  no  exact  reply, 
but  as  soon  as  the  minister's  back  was 
turned,  he  fell  to  work  with  might  and 
main  on  those  identical  logs.  After 
dinner  the  parson  again  came  out.  Gaz- 
ing hurriedly  about,  he  excitedly  ex- 
claimed, "Where  are  those  logs,  .those 
nice  trunnell  logs  that  i  told  you  to 
save  ?  " 

" Save?"  queried  the  wily  old  officer, 
with  an  air  of  bewilderment. 

"Yes,  I  told  3'ou  to  put  them  aside, 
that  they  were  too  good  for  fire- wood." 

"Well,  realty  now  !  Sometimes  I'm 
a  little  hard  o'  hearing,  parson.  1 
thought  you  told  me  to  split  them  fine 
logs  fust,"  innocently  returned  the  un- 
truthful old  sinner,  with  a  deprecatory 
air. 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  pastor,  "I 
am  sorry,  but  it  cannot  lie  helped  now. 
I  was  not  aware  that  3*011  were  deaf, 
lieutenant,  is  that  the  cause  of  3-0111-  ab- 
sence from  divine  worship?" 

"Why  yes,  I  used  to  go  regerlarly 
when  a  3roungster,  but  going  into  the 
army  upsets  people.  War  is  a  glorious 
thing  when  one  is  fighting  for  one's  lib- 
erties, but  it  kind  of  onsettles  a  fellow. 


I've  had  so  many  bullets  whistling 
round  my  ears,  that  half  the  time  it 
seems  as  if  I  couldn't  hear  anything 
else." 

"If  you  cannot  hear,  come  and  sit  in 
the  pulpit ;  I  should  be  most  happy  to 
have  3*ou,"  the  parson  replied  in  his 
most  polite  manner,  as  he  turned  to  re- 
enter  the  house, 

As  the  Lieutenant  had  said,  the  war 
did  unsettle  a  great  many.  Good  offi- 
cers made  but  poor  civilians.  Lieut. 
Xo3"es  would  not  have  deliberately  per- 
formed a  bad  deed,  but  his  moral  sense 
had  become  somewhat  stretched,  and  a 
good  joke  was  the  very  breath  in  his 
nostrils.  Though  since  the  end  of  the 
war  he  had  led  somewhat  of  a  desulto- 
ry life,  he  always  managed  to  dress 
and  appear  like  a  gentleman.  The. 
next  Sunday,  to  the  wonder  and  con- 
sternation of  the  congregation,  just 
after  Parson  Woods  had  taken  his 
place  in  the  pulpit,  the  lieutenant,  in 
his  best  suit,  his  hair  elaborate^*  frizz- 
ed, powdered  and  cued,  marched  up 
the  broad  aisle  with  his  most  imposing 
tread,  and  slowly  ascended  the  pulpit 
stairs.  With  a  profound  military  sa- 
lute he  seated  himself  beside  the  par- 
son. "What  could  it  mean,?"  The 
amazement  increased,  when,  as  the 
clerg3rman  rose  to  begin  the  service, 
the  lieutenant  rose  also ;  standing  a 
little  back  with  his  head  slightly  in- 
clined forward,  and  his  hand  behind 
his  ear,  he  continued  to  occupy  his 
post  beside  the  pastor  through 
the  long  prayer  and  the  longer  ser- 
mon. As  every  one  knew  the  old 
scamp  was  not  the  least  deaf,  they  be- 
gan to  surmise  that  some  mischief  was 
on  foot,  but  'k  what  was  the  mystery?" 
After  two  or  three  Sabbaths,  in  which 
the  pranky  old  officer,  with  the  gravity 


66 


REMINISCENCES 


of  forty  judges,  occupied  a  place  in 
the  pulpit,  the  story  of  the  trunnel 
logs  became  whispered  about,  and  his 
presence  there  caused  such  a  sensation 
that  the  tithing  man  was  compelled  to 
give  him  a  seat  on  the  long  bench  in 
front.  Aunt  Ruth  Little  and  others 
declared  some  judgment  must  fall  on 
the  reprobate ;  but,  notwithstanding 
these  menaces,  he  went  on  his  wa}'  re- 
joicing, getting  more  treats  than  ever 
at  the  tavern,  and  a  more  hearty  wel- 
come to  good  cheer  throughout  the  vi- 
cinity. 

Parson  Wood's  friends  were  zealous 
in  his  defence.  "A  minister  had  wants 
of  which  the  common  people  knew  noth- 
ing ;  he  had  more  calls  for  money.  He 
was  a  blessed  man,  a  learned  man  ;  his 
thoughts  soared  above  those  of  the  mul- 
titude,— they  ought  not  to  be  lowered 
by  petty  cares  and  the  many  annoyan- 
ces of  this  sublunary  existence." 

Mrs.  Woods'  bridal  cloak,  of  white 
satin,  had  become  somewhat  defaced, 
and  a  subscription  paper  was  put  in 
circulation  the  first  of  the  winter  to 
obtain  a  sum  to  purchase  black  satin 
for  another.  This  gave  cause  for  much 
remark.  It  was  averred  that  many 
gave  who  could  ill  afford  the  outlay ; 
some  from  a  naturally  generous  im- 
pulse, but  more  from  a  false  pride  that 
would  not  permit  them  to  omit  cop}*ing 
the  example  of  their  more  wealthy 
neighbors.  Right  or  wrong,  the  sub- 
scription was  made,  and  a  sufficient 
amount  obtained  to  purchase  the  satin 
and  a  handsome  sable  muff  and  tippet. 
The  cloak,  an  elegant  one,  trimmed 
with  rich  lace,  was  made  by  a  commit- 
tee of  ladies  chosen  for  that  purpose, 
at  the  residence  of  aunt  Ruth  Little, 
and  on  New  Year  the  articles  were  pre- 
sented in  due  form. 


A  Baptist  society  had  been  estab- 
lished in  New  Rowley.  Mrs.  Mollie 
Little,  uncle  Enoch  Little's  wife,  had 
been  a  communicant  of  this  church 
previous  to  her  marriage,  and  Mr.  Lit- 
tle had  accompanied  his  wife  to  this 
ministration.  Finding  so  much  divis- 
ion in  our  parish,  the  Baptists  organ- 
ized a  series  of  prayer  and  conference 
meetings,  which  were  held  at  Mr.  Lit- 
tle's house.  My  uncle  Parker  Smith's 
family  also  attended  the  Baptist  meet- 
ings, and  my  two  cousins,  Hannah  and 
Nabb}r  Smith,  girls  a  few  years  my  se- 
nior, frequently  came  to  attend  the 
meetings ;  I  accompanied  them  a  few 
times,  but  the  odd  phraseology  of  some 
of  the  speakers — illiterate  persons  but 
full  of  zeal,  coupled  with  the  still 
more  singularly  expressed  experiences, 
which  were  nightty  related,  worked  so 
strongly  on  my  risibles,  that  it  was 
difficult  for  me  to  maintain  a  proper 
decorum.  Much  to  the  horror  of  my 
cousins,  that  which  sent  the  tears  roll- 
ing down  my  cheeks,  instead  of  bring- 
ing any  sanctifying  convictions,  merely 
set  me  into  hysterics  from  suppressed 
merriment,  and  mother  declared  "  I 
was  bad  enough  anyway,  and  that  she 
would  not  have  me  made  worse  by  at- 
tendance at  these  Baptist  gatherings." 
During  the  previous  summer,  one  hot 
afternoon,  aunt  Sarah  ran  down  stairs 
with  the  somewhat  startling  announce- 
ment that  ' '  Brother  Sam,  in  his  best 
suit,  with  saddle-bags  across  the  sad- 
dle, was  coming  on  horse-back  up  the 
lane."  We  could  scarcely  believe  she 
had  seen  aright.  Looking  out,  we 
found  it  was  no  hallucination,  but  that 
Uncle  Sam,  in  the  flesh,  was  leading 
his  horse  into  the  stable.  What  could 
it  mean  ?  What  could  have  called  him 
from  home  just  in  the  midst  of  the 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


67 


English  hay  season  ?  To  the  eager  in- 
quiries made  on  his  entrance,  he  replied 
in  his  most  imposing  style,  that  he  had 
been  to  Lynn  to  be  ordained,  that  now 
he  was  a  licensed  preacher  of  the  Meth- 
odist persuasion.  Grandmam'  groaned 
over  her  son's  infatuation,  and  aunt 
Sarah  worried  about  his  grass.  ''To 
think  of  his  leaving  his  farm  then  !  If 
he  must  be  ordained,  why  couldn't  he 
have  waited  for  winter  when  he  could 
be  spared."  Father  laughed  ;  "he  had 
always  said  Sam  never  would  labor, 
and  he  should  prove  a  true  prophet." 
Lifted  into  a  sphere  above  minor  earth- 
ly affairs,  the  gentleman  departed  for 
his  home  on  the  morrow,  wholly  obliv- 
ious to  the  prognostications  of  evil 
from  his  course  which  burthened  the 
minds  of  his  family  and  friends. 

The  interest  in  the  Baptist  meetings 
was  increasing,  when  uncle  Sam  made 
us  his  annual  winter  visit.  As  soon  as 
his  arrival  became  known  he  received  a 
pressing  invitation  to  preach  at  Mr. 
Little's  Sunday  evening,  which  was  ac- 
cepted with  evident  gratification.  He 
somewhat  amused  the  family  by  his  so- 
licitude respecting  his  dress.  As  it 
was  cold  weather,  and  he  had  not  ex- 
pected to  preach,  he  had  come  unpro- 
vided with  a  white  necktie.  A  loan  of 
one  was  solicited,  "as  it  looked  more 
clerical."  Father  laughingly  told  his 
brother,  as  he  handed  him  the  handker- 
chief, ' '  he  saw  that  he  yet  retained  a 
piece  of  the  old  Adam."  Aunt  Sarah 
contemptuously  averred,  "  that  he  did 
not  live  up  to  his  creed — "every  earth- 
ly pomp  and  vanity  ought  to  be  re- 
nounced ; "  but  grandmam'  declared 
she  was  "glad  to  see  that  Sam  had 
some  idea  of  the  fitness  of  things ;  if 
he  must  preach  Methody,  it  pleased 
her  to  know  that  he  wished  to  look  and 


appear  like  a  gentleman,  and  did  not 
turn  himself  into  an  itinerant  ranter." 

The  tidings  that  Mr.  Sam  Smith  was 
o  expound  the  novel  doctrines  of  Meth- 
odism had  called  together  a  crowd,  and 
the   ground  rooms  of  the  large  house 
were  full.     After  the  reading  of  a  por- 
tion of  the  Scripture  came  a  prayer  in 
the  usual  fervent  style  ;  a  hymn  having 
been,  sung  the  text  was  named — Eze- 
kiel  7th  chap.,  7th  verse  :  "  The  morn- 
ing is   come   upon  thee,  O  thou  that 
dwellest  in  the  land."      From    these 
words  a  powerful  discourse  in  elucida- 
tion of  the  tenets  of  the  new  sect  was 
delivered.     The  speaker  had  found  his 
vocation  ;  he  possessed  the  gift  to  en- 
chain an  audience,  and    he  held  this 
promiscuous  assembly  in  rapt  attention 
for  over  an  hour.     At  the  close  of  the 
sermon  up  jumped  Mr.  Silas  Moulton, 
then  one  of  Parson  Woods'  recent  con- 
verts, and  in  a  fiery,  "  Hopkinsonian  " 
prayer,  each  one  of  Mr.   Smith's  doc- 
trinal points  was  contra  verted.     This 
brought  on  an  ardent  discussion.     The 
hour  grew   late ;  Aunt  Enoch   Smith 
and  myself  essayed  to  make  our  exit 
by  the  back  door.     The  eager  and  ex- 
cited throng  barred  our  progress.     Da- 
vid Emery,  now  a  tall  youth  of  seven- 
teen,   aided   our  efforts   by   raising   a 
couple  of  chairs  above  his  head,  when 
we  managed    to    squeeze     out.     The 
night   air  was  refreshing.      One   after 
another  the    members  of   the   family 
came   home,   but  it  was  after  eleven 
when   father   and  uncle  Sam  arrived. 
The  preacher  was  completely  exhaust- 
ed.    Family  prayer  was  omitted,  and 
aunt    Sarah    filled    the    long-handled 
warming-pan  with  bright  coals,  declar- 
ing as  she  went  to  warm  the  bed, '  'that  if 
it   was   her  brother,   she  must  say  he 
was  great  for  argufying,    and   he  had 


68 


REMINISCENCES 


beat  Silas  Moulton  out  and  out." 
The  morrow  brought  a  severe  snow 
storm,  which  blocked  the  road  to  an 
unusual  degree.  In  the  midst  of  this 
storm,  much  to  our  astonishment,  Mr. 
Joseph  Ames,  one  of  the  chief  Baptist 
speakers,  came  in.  He  had  walked 
the  whole  distance  from  Bradford  in 
that  storm  to  converse  with  uncle  Sam. 
I  became  so  tired  of  this  discussion, 
of  hearing  the  changes  rung  and  re- 
rung  upon  the  conflicting  themes,  that 
I  kindled  a  rousing  fire  in  aunt  Sarah's 
chamber,  and  there  sought  a  respite 
from  the  sound  of  human  tongues,  and 
the  quiet  requisite  to  an  aching  head . 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  predictions  of  evil  made  at  the 
union  of  Robert  Adams  and  Susan 
Little  had  been  fully  realized.  Con- 
sanguinity, however,  could  not  be  as- 
signed as  a  cause,  but  a  tendency  to 
consumption,  inherited  from  his  father 
in  the  bridegroom.  Soon  after  his 
marriage  Mr.  Adams  had  an  attack  of 
hemorrhage  of  the  lungs ;  the  next 
summer  he  rallied  and  hopes  were  en- 
tertained of  his  recovery,  but  the 
bleeding  recommenced,  and  after  a 
season  of  prostration  and  suffering,  he 
passed  awa}%  some  two  months  prior 
to  the  third  anniversary  of  his  marri- 
age. One  infant  had  gone  before  its 
father,  and  a  second,  born  after  his 
decease,  only  entered  this  world  to 
pass  to  another. 

Aunt  Sukey,  completely  crushed, 
was  thus  left  alone,  the  care  of  a  farm 
devolving  upon  her.  My  cousin  Xab- 


by  Smith  had  been  with  Mrs.  Adams 
during  her  husband's  illness,  and  it 
was  decided  she  should  remain.  Uncle 
William  Little  sold  the  farm  he  had  re- 
cently purchased  in  Haverhill,  and 
came  to  take  charge  of  his  sister  and 
her  estate.  In  March  aunt  Hannah 
Little  was  married  to  Mr.  James  Stick - 
ney.  a  young  man  who  had  for  some 
time  resided  with  the  brothers  and  sis- 
ters Dole.  A  handsome,  energetic 
youth,  he  had  won  the  regard  of  the 
lone  bachelors  and  maids,  and  they 
highly  favored  his  match  with  Hannah 
Little,  and  had  fitted  apartments  for 
the  young  couple  in  their  large  house. 

The  snow  which  had  fallen  during 
uncle  Sam's  visit  still  covered  the 
ground.  On  the  morning  of  the  eigh- 
teenth, father  and  I  rode  directly  over 
the  stone  wall  dividing  the  field  from 
the  street,  on  our  wa}-  to  grandsir  Lit- 
tle's, but  in  half  an  hour  the  water 
poured  in  a  perfect  torrent  down  the 
hill,  the  brook  rose  in  an  unexampled 
manner,  and  tin-  reads  became  nearly 
impassable.  The  wedding  was  appoint- 
ed at  eight  o'clock  Only  the  family 
and  nearest  relatives  had  been  invited, 
and  it  was  with  extreme  difficulty  that 
the}'  reached  the  hon>--.  Mr.  Stick- 
ney  came  in  looking  unusually  pale 
and  complaining  of  a  lameness  in  the 
back,  caused  by  a  fall  the  day  previ- 
ous. The  ladder  had  slipped  as  he 
was  descending  from  the  hay-mow,  and 
he  fell  with  great  force  directly  across 
the  machine  for  breaking  flax.  The 
sorrow  and  concern  felt  at  this  accident 
was  expressed',  but  no  one  entertained 
the  slightest  idea  that  any  serious  con- 
sequences would  ensue,  or  that  it  would 
entail  any  lasting  effect.  Parson 
Woods  having  sold  his  horse  walked 
over  from  the  main  road.  His  feet 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


69 


were  thorough!}-  saturated.  Dry  hose 
and  slippers  were  furnished,  and 
grandmam'  bade  me  bring  the  minister 
a  glass  of  wine,  as  a  preventative 
against  taking  cold,  but  the  clerg3*man 
said  :  "  if  it  was  just  as  convenient  he 
would  prefer  a  little  rum  and  molasses." 
The  toddy  having  been  furnished,  the 
company  repaired  to  the  parlor.  Aunt 
Hannah  looked  lovely  in  a  white  jaconte 
muslin  ;  you  would  have  to  go  a  long 
way.  as  aunt  Judy  Dole  said,  to  see  a 
handsomer  couple.  Travelling  was  so 
difficult,  the  company  dispersed  at  an 
early  hour.  The  bride  and  groom  re- 
mained at  grandsir's  till  the  next  day. 
Aunt  Sukey  and  Nabbj-  Smith  essayed 
to  walk  the  distance  home,  but  were 
obliged  to  return  and  don  each  a  pair 
of  men's  boots,  in  order  to  pass  the 
bridge  over  the  brook,  and  the  next 
day,  when  uncle  Stickney  took  his  wife 
and  nvyself  home,  we  were  obliged  to 
scramble  upon  the  sleigh  seat,  the  water 
poured  so  over  the  sides  of  the  large, 
high-backed  sleigh. 

The  previous  }rear  had  been  a  sad 
one  to  our  family,  and  farther  calamity 
was  in  .store.  In  April,  uncle  William 
Little's  only  child,  a  promising  lad  of 
five  j-ears,  died  suddenly  of  croup. 
This  was  a  severe  affliction  to  the 
parents ;  the  father  for  a  time  was 
nearly  frantic.  The  first  shock  of  the 
loss  had  scarcely  passed,  when  David 
Eaton,  one  of  Uncle  Bill's  apprentices 
was  taken  sick  with  the  measles.  None 
of  the  family  had  had  the  distemper, 
every  one  caught  it.  Aunt  Sukey  and 
Nabby  Smith  were  sick  at  the  same 
time,  and,  as  I  had  had  the  measles,  I 
was  obliged  to  act  as  nurse.  My  pa- 
tients were  quite  sick,  Nabby  was  in- 
sane for  twenty-four  hours.  Uncle 
Bill's  family  were  all  ill  one  after  anoth- 


er. Aunt  Little  was  very  sick,  fever 
set  in  and  for  several  days  she  was  not 
expected  to  live.  Naturally  a  delicate 
woman,  it  took  a  long  while  for  nature 
to  rally,  and  she  remained  an  invalid 
through  the  summer.  Just  as  Aunt 
Little's  fever  was  at  its  height,  the 
news  came  that  Aunt  Bartlett  was  dan- 
gerously sick.  Grandmam'  Little  and 
my  mother  hurried  to  town,  but,  under 
Divine  Providence,  with  good  nursing, 
her  life  was  spared. 

Uncle  Stickney  had  not  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  his  fall,  as  had  been 
anticipated.  He  took  cold  while  fish- 
ing ;  a  cough  came  on,  and,  instead  of 
gaining  health  as  the  warm  weather  ad- 
vanced, day  by  day  he  lost  both  flesh 
and  vigor.  Help  was  hired  to  do  his 
work  upon  the  farm,  and  the  most  se- 
rious apprehensions  began  to  be  enter- 
tained. 

With  my  multifarious  duties,  I  had 
contrived  to  plait  a  new  straw  bonnet 
for  myself.  Aunt  Sarah  assisted  me 
to  make  common  hats  for  father  and  the 
boys.  We  also  fashioned  a  cunning 
bonnet  for  my  little  sister  Susan  to  wear 
upon  her  first  advent  at  meeting.  Upon 
sight  of  this  head  gear,  little  Joe  de- 
manded a  Sunday  straw  hat.  Aunt 
Sarah  said  that  was  a  good  idea.  I 
plaited  a  fine  braid  ;  the  hat  was  made 
and  lined  with  green  silk.  Jim  thought 
he  should  like  one,  only  the  braid  might 
be  coarser.  When  father  saw  this  hat. 
he  asked  us  to  make  one  for  him,  the 
light  hat  was  ' '  so  comfortable  in  warm 
weather."  The  gentlemen  and  }-outh 
of  the  neighborhood  and  vicinity,  see- 
ing and  liking  these  hats,  came  to  so- 
licit us  to  braid  some  for  them.  In  a 
short  time  quite  a  lucrative  business 
was  established.  In  the  midst  of  the 
hurry,  one  of  our  cousins,  Patty  Noyes, 


70 


REMINISCENCES 


came  in,  to  beg  us  to  braid  her  a  bon- 
net; she  "must  have  one  for  the  very 
next  Sunday."  "That  is  an  impossi- 
bility." "Then  sew  one  from  this!" 
she  exclaimed,  seizing  a  roll  of  the  hat 
braid.  ' '  That  is  too  coarse."  ' '  That 
is  a  matter  of  taste,"  she  returned ; 
"if  I  have  a  coarse  straw  it  may  set 
the  fashion.  Just  sew  the  braid  as  I 
direct." 

Remonstrance  was  useless.  The  bon- 
net was  sewed.  It  looked  very  well, 
and  when  trimmed  was  really  pretty. 
Patty's  joke  proved  a  prophecy, — she 
did  set  a  fashion.  Orders  came  for 
several  similar  bonnets.  This  extra 
straw  work  brought  a  great  hurry  in 
the  autumn.  I  was  looking  forward 
to  a  little  more  leisure  in  the  winter 
weather,  when  I  was  summoned  to  the 
Dole  place,  where  with  slight  intervals 
I  remained  for  several  months.  Our 
worst  fears  were  realized.  Uncle  Stick- 
ney  was  in  a  confirmed  consumption. 
Aunt  Hannah,  feeble  from  a  recent 
confinement,  and  worn  down  by  anxie- 
ty, watching,  and  the  care  of  a  sickly, 
puny  babe,  needed  my  assistance.  The 
last  of  December  the  feeble,  wailing  in- 
fant passed  from  our  tearful  care  to 
the  arms  of  the  heavenly  angels.  This 
was  m}'  first  experience  of  the  death 
of  a  babe,  and  under  the  circumstan- 
ces I  felt  that  it  was  not  a  subject  for 
grief,  but  a  beneficent  event  to  both 
mother  and  child.  Aunt  Hannah  seem- 
ed stunned.  She  moved  about  her  hus- 
band's death-bed  like  one  in  a  trance. 
The  brothers  and  sisters  Dole  were  agon- 
ized at  the  thought  of  the  loss  of  their 
adopted  son  ;  they  could  not  be  talked 
or  prayed  into  submission.  "It  was 
hard ;  oh,  so  hard,  to  see  that  strong, 
handsome  form  so  fast  succumbing  to  dis- 
ease." Robert  Adams  had  always  been 


delicate  ;  his  illness  was  more  gradual ; 
sad  as  it  was  it  did  not  seem  so  heart- 
rending as  this.  Assistance  and  sym- 
pathy were  tendered  from  all  quarters, 
still  it  was  a  dark,  dark  time  !  Aunt 
Sukey,  naturally  of  a  less  buoyant  tem- 
perament than  her  sisters,  sank  into  a 
morbid  melancholy,  distressing  herself 
with  doubts  of  her  late  husband's  state 
in  the  other  world,  as  he  had  made  no 
death-bed  confession.  Uncle  Sam 
Smith's  visit  brought  comfort  and  hope. 
He  cheered  aunt  Sukey  and  brought  a 
peaceful  submission  to  the  death-strick- 
en household  of  our  neighbors.  We 
began  to  feel  that,  though  he  might  not 
attain  to  a  great  worldly  wealth,  he 
possessed  that  pearl  of  great  price, 
that  true  riches,  before  which  mere 
earthly  treasures  sink  into  insignifi- 
cance. 

In  April,  Uncle  Stickney  left  us. 
His  exit  had  been  calm  and  hopeful. 
A  degree  of  submission  had  been  at- 
tained by  those  nearest  and  dearest, 
and  Aunt  Hannah  returned  to  the  old 
life,  (yet,  alas  !  how  sadly  different) ,  in 
the  paternal  home,  bereft  of  both  hus- 
band and  child  in  little  over  one  short 
year, — a  childless  widow  ere  she  had 
reached  the  age  of  twenty-one. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

* 

A  quantity  of  straw  had  been  stored 
the  summer  before  ;  this  spring,  orders 
for  bonnets  and  hats  came  as  fast  as 
the}"  could  be  filled. 

As  I  have  stated,  Uncle  Thurrel's 
only  daughter  had  married  Mr.  Jona- 
than Smith,  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Smith,  the  first  Baptist  clergyman  in 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


71 


Haverhill.     Mr.  Smith  kept  a  store  in 
that  town.     Straw   bonnets   were   be- 
coming so  fashionable,  Mrs.  Smith  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  our  supplying  the 
sale    at  her   husband's   establishment. 
Hitherto  our  bonnets  had  remained  the 
natural   color    of    the    straw.      Straw 
work  had  been  commenced  in  Provi- 
dence, and  through  some  relatives  there, 
Mrs.    Smith    learned   the    process    of 
bleaching.     We  were  greatly  pleased  to 
become  initiated  into  the  mystery,  and 
with  her  native  ingenuity,  Aunt  Sarah 
contrived    a  bleacher}*.       Holes   were 
bored  in  the  head  of  a  barrel,  strings 
were  attached  to  the  bonnets  and  passed 
up  through  the  apertures,  which  were 
then  plugged  with  wooden  spiles  ;  sul- 
phur sprinkled  over  embers  put  in  the 
dish   of   a   foot-stove   was   placed  be- 
neath ;  the  whole  being  tightened  by  an 
old  quilt,  not  a  fume  escaped,  and  the 
bonnets  came  forth  as  white  as  the  im- 
ported.    To  this  period  the  braid  had 
been   plaited   from  whole  straw;   this 
year  the  split  straws  began  to   come, 
and  Aunt  Sarah  finding  that  she  could 
split  straw  with  a  coarse  comb,  conclu- 
ded to  have  some  combs  made  for  the 
purpose.     Comb  making  had  been  an 
industry  of  the  town  since  its  first  set- 
tlement.    Mr.  Enoch  Noyes,  my  grand- 
mother Smith's   nephew,   had   become 
noted   for  the   manufacture  of  combs 
and  horn  buttons.     He  was  a  great  ge- 
nius,   had   contrived   many  inventions 
and   made  much  improvement  in  the 
business.      During  the    Revolutionary 
war,  a  Hessian  deserter,  an  adept  in 
the  craft,  had  chanced  to  drift  into  the 
place  and  was  at  once  employed  by  Mr. 
Noyes,  much  to  the  advantage  of  the 
trade,  which  immediately  increased  in 
extent  and  importance.      Mr.   No}res 
was  a  great  oddity.      He   would  run 


half  over  the  parish  bareheaded  and 
barefooted.  It  was  no  uncommon 
thing  for  him  to  appear  at  our  house, 
after  'dinner  of  a  hot  summer  day,  in 
only  a  shirt  and  breeches,  having  run 
across  the  fields  two  miles,  "jest  to 
take  a  nooning."  A  great  joker  and  a 
capital  story-teller,  his  appearance  was 
the  signal  for  a  general  frolic.  He  was 
fond  of  telling  strangers  that  his  father 
used  to  say  he  had  "four  remarkable 
children :  Molly  was  remarkably  hand- 
some, Tim  was  a  remarkable  sloven, 
John  was  remarkably  wicked,  and 
Enoch  was  remarkably  cunning."  To 
this  gentleman  aunt  Sarah  applied.  As 
might  have  been  expected,  he  entered 
into  the  business  with  characteristic 
zest,  and  in  a  short  time  we  were  sup- 
plied with  half  a  dozen  different-sized 
straw  splitters. 

Mrs.  Smith,  having  cut  a  tin}"  piece 
of  trimming  from  an  imported  bon- 
net, brought  it  for  me  to  imitate. 
How  vividly  I  recall  the  two  long  hours 
which  I  passed,  sitting  on  the  chamber 
floor  surrounded  by  the  litter  of  straw, 
patiently  weaving  and  unweaving  until 
the  secret 'was  obtained.  Having  ac- 
quired this  ornamental  cue,  I  invented 
several  other  decorations  with  which  to 
finish  the  edge  of  the  bonnets.  I  also 
learned  to  make  straw  plumes  and  tas- 
sels from  examining  those  on  the  for- 
eign bonnets.  Miss  Mar}-  Perkins  kept 
a  fashionable  millinery  establishment 
in  Newburyport.  Hearing  of  our  straw 
manufacture  she  rode  up  to  see  us  and 
immediately  ordered  bonnets.  After  a 
time  the  plain  straw  became  supersed- 
ed by  diamond  and  other  fancy  plaits. 
These  being  the  ton,  Miss  Jenkins  also 
purloined  a  bit  from  the  inside  of  a 
diamond  satin  straw,  and  brought  it  as 
a  pattern  of  a  braid.  It  looked  so  in- 


72 


REMINISCENCES 


tricate  I  nearly  despaired  of  1113-  ability^ 
to  copy  it,  but  Miss  Jenkins  would 
not  permit  me  to  demur,  and  as  every 
one  spoke  encouragingby  I  made  the 
effort,  and  in  two  or  three  hours  ac- 
complished the  task.  This  was  a  time- 
ly achievement ;  our  bonnets  were  in 
great  demand,  and  we  continued  the 
business  through  the  warm  season  for 
several  3'ears  until  the  establishment  of 
straw  factories  and  ury  approaching 
marriage  curtailed  the  work  ;  but  aunt 
Sarah  continued  to  braid  men's  hats 
and  supply  her  friends'  bonnets  for  a 
long  time. 

The  year  I  was  seven  years  old  the 
first  incorporated  woolen  mill  in  Mas- 
sachusetts was  established  at  the  falls 
on  the  river  Parker,  in  the  Parish  of 
Byfield  in  Newbury.  The  machinery 
for  this  factory  was  made  in  Xewbury- 
port  by  Messrs.  Standring,  Armstrong 
&  Guppy,  agents ;  the  Messrs.  Schol- 
field  and  most  of  the  operatives  were 
English.  The  erection  of  this  mill  cre- 
ated a  great  sensation  throughout  the 
whole  region.  People  visited  it  from 
far  and  near.  Ten  cents  was  charged 
as  an  admittance  fee.  That  first  win- 
ter sleighing  parties  came  from  all  the 
adjacent  towns,  and  as  distant  as 
Hampstead  and  Deny,  in  New  Hamp- 
shire. Row  after  row  of  sleighs  passed 
over  Crane-neck  hill,  enlivening  the 
bright,  cold  days  by  the  joyous  tones 
of  their  merry  bells.  Never  shall  I 
forget  the  awe  with  which  I  entered 
what  then  appeared  the  vast  and  im- 
posing edifice.  The  huge  drums  that 
carried  the  bands  on  the  lower  floor, 
coupled  with  the  novel  noise  and  hum 
increased  this  awe  ;  but  when  I  reached 
the  second  floor  where  picking,  card- 
ing, spinning  and  weaving  were  in  pro- 
gress my  amazement  became  complete. 


The  machinery,  with  the  exception  of 
the  looms,  was  driven  by  water  pow- 
er, the  weaving  was  by  hand.  Most 
of  the  operatives  were  males,  a  few 
young  girls  being  employed  in  splicing 
rolls. 

In  a  few  years  the  first  company  was 
dissolved,  and  the  mill  passed  into  oth- 
er hands.  The  Scholfields  were  suc- 
ceeded by  Messrs.  Lees  &  Ta^'lor. 
These  gentlemen  were  also  English. 
New  machinery  imported  from  Eng- 
land for  the  manufacture  of  cotton 
goods  was  put  in.  Mr.  Ta}'lor  soon 
left,  but  Mr.  Lees  continued  to  operate 
the  mill  for  several  years.  The  estab- 
lishment of  this  factory  brought  quite 
a  revolution  in  the  domestic  manufac- 
tures of  the  neighborhood.  For  some 
time  previous,  in  most  families  hand 
carding  had  been  discontinued,  the 
wool  having  been  sent  to  be  converted 
into  rolls  to  the  clothier  mills  of  Mr. 
Ben.  Pearson  or  Mr.  Samuel  Dummer. 
Lees  &  Ta3'lor  made  arrangements  b3" 
which  this  famuy  carding  could  be  done 
at  their  factoty  both  cheaper  and  better 
than  at  the  smaller  mills.  The  intro- 
duction of  cotton  opened  a  new  channel 
of  industry.  The  weaving  was  still 
performed  by  hand ;  as  the  business 
increased  this  loom  power  was  not  suf- 
ficient to  supply  the  demand  for  cloths. 
Their  goods  consisted  of  heaAy  tick- 
ings and  a  lighter  cloth  of  blue  and 
white  striped  or  checked,  suitable  for 
men's  and  boys'  summer  wear,  aprons, 
&c.  The  tickings  were  woven  b3r  men 
on  the  looms  at  the  factory,  but  much 
of  the  lighter  stuffs  were  taken  into 
families  and  woven  on  the  common 
house  loom.  The  3-arns  were  spun  and 
dyed  at  the  factory;  these  could  be 
purchased  there,  and  in  lieu  of  the 
hitherto  universal  linen  and  tow,  cotton 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


73 


began  to  be  mixed  with  flax  or  woven 
alone.  Quite  fine  cotton  fabrics  were 
woven  ;  bleached  they  looked  very  nice. 
Stamps  on  blocks  of  wood  had  been 
invented,  and  with  home-made  dyes, 
calico  was  stamped.  These  chintzes 
were  held  in  high  estimation  and  many 
• '  go-to-meeting  gowns"  were  construct- 
of  them,  pieces  of  which  have  been 
handed  down,  to  be  cherished  as  inesti- 
mable relics  of  a  former  generation. 
This  cotton  spinning  brought  a  new  oc- 
cupation to  the  place.  Being  prior  to 
Whitney's  invention  of  the  cotton  gin, 
the  material  came  just  as  it  had  been 
gathered  from  the  field,  and  many  of 
the  females  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
factory  were  employed  to  separate  the 
seed  from  the  cotton.  For  years  one 
rarely  entered  a  farm  house  in  the 
vicinity  without  finding  one  or  more  of 
the  inmates  busy  picking  cotton. 

A  short  time  prior  to  the  erection-  of 
the  Byfield  factory,  Jacob  Perkins,  the 
distinguished  inventor  and  the  first  en- 
graver of  bank  bills,  completed  the 
construction  of  his  first  machine  for 
cutting  nails.  Hitherto  every  nail  in 
use  had  been  wrought  by  hand,  and 
this  machine  became  immediately  an 
object  of  interest,  as  the  community  at 
once  perceived  its  value,  and  justly 
took  pride  in  their  gifted  townsman. 
Mr.  Perkins  having  hired  the  old  mill 
house  of  Capt.  Paul  Moody  in  Byfield, 
commenced  business  on  the  same  dam 
as  the  Factory.  This  nail  factory  con- 
tinued in  operation  some  years,  then, 
as  Amesbury  presented  greater  facili- 
ties for  their  manufacture,  the  business 
was  moved  to  that  town.  Mr.  Perkins 
discovered  a  process  for  plating  shoe 
buckles,  then  universally  worn ;  he 
made  improvements  in  fire  engines  and 
hydraulic  machines,  and  machines  for 


boring  honey-combed  cannon.  He  was 
also  the  most  skilful  pyrotechnist  in  the 
county.  He  also  discovered  a  method 
of  softening  and  hardening  steel,  by 
which  the  process  of  engravings  was 
greatly  facilitated.  The  Bank  of  Eng- 
land adopted  it  for  their  plates.  He 
invented  the  bathometer,  an  instrument 
for  measuring  the  depth  of  the  sea  by 
the  pressure  of  water ;  and  the  pleo- 
meter,  which  measured  the  rate  of  a 
ship's  sailing.  He  also  demonstrated 
the  impressibility  of  water.  Later  in 
life  he  went  to  London,  where  his  ex- 
periments on  high  pressure  steam  ma- 
chinery attracted  much  attention.  He 
contrived  a  steam  gun  which  could  dis- 
charge about  a  thousand  balls  a  min- 
ute. Experiments  with  this  gun  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  and  other  distinguished  mil- 
itary men.  These  inventions  enriched 
others,  but  Mr.  Perkins  died  in  Lon- 
don in  1840  without  the  fortune  tr 
which,  by  his  labors  he  was  justly  enti- 
tled. 

Mr.  Eben  Parsons,  _  one  of  the  sons 
of  the  Rev.  Moses  Parsons,  the  second 
pastor  of  the  church  in  B}Tfield  parish, 
then  an  eminent  merchant  in  Boston, 
had  purchased  an  estate  contiguous  to 
the  parsonage,  where  he  had  been  born 
and  bred.  Neither  expense  or  labor 
had  been  spared  in  improving  and  or- 
namenting the  grounds  and  garden  of 
this  place,  which  its  owner  called  the 
"  Fatherland  Farm."  Now  prepara- 
tion commenced  for  the  erection  of  a 
spacious  mansion.  Raisings  at  that 
period  were  universally  a  social  festi- 
val, and  this,  from  the  superiority  of 
the  building,  the  elegance  of  its  sur- 
roundings, and  position  of  its  owner, 
became  an  extraordinary  fete.  Pre- 
parations for  the  occasion  were  made 
10 


74 


REMnsTISCENCES 


upon  a  scale  of  unusual  magnificence. 
It  was  arranged  that  the  Rev.  Dr.  Par- 
ish should  deliver  an  address,  and  a 
consecrating  hymn  should  be  sung. 
The  choir  in  our  parish  were  in  Anted  to 
join  that  in  Byfield  in  singing  this 
hymn.  As  the  female  singers  were  to 
be  habited  in  a  uniform  of  white  mus- 
lin and  bine  satin,  there  was  a  great 
stir  of  preparation,  and  the  whole  com- 
munity was  roused  into  a  perfect  tip- 
toe of  expectancy.  The  important 
day  at  length  arrived.  Crowds  in  car- 
riages, on  horseback  and  on  foot 
thronged  to  the  raising,  which  w;i-  cur- 
ly in  the  afternoon.  Deft  hands  splen- 
didly did  the  work  :  the  stout  timbers 
of  the  spacious  building  were  securely 
upreared ;  then  the  master  builder,  Mr. 
Stephen  Tappan  of  Xewburyport.  ap- 
peared on  the  summit,  bottle  in  hand. 
Amid  profound  silence,  for  a  moment 
he  poised  himself  aloft,  then  swinging 
the  bottle  above  his  head,  with  a  cheer 
which  was  caught  up  and  iterated  and 
reiterated  by  the  multitude,  the  new 
roof-tree  was  duly  baptized  in  pure  old 
Jamaica.  The  deafening  cheers  ended, 
a  platform  was  arranged  over  a  part  of 
the  floor  timbers,  to  which  mounted  the 
orator,  singers  and  most  noted  guests. 
The  eloquent  divine,  inspired  by  the 
scene  and  hour,  did  himself  more  than 
justice,  holding  his  entranced  audience 
in  breathless  attention  for  nearly  an 
hour  by  a  perfect  rush  of  eloquence. 
Next  the  orchestra  took  their  places. 
A  goodlie  company,  those  stalwart 
youths  and  buxom  maidens.  The  bass- 
viol  struck  the  tune,  and  the  united 
voices  floated  forth  on  the  still  summer 
air,  and  sang 

"  If  God  refuse  the  house  to  build 
The  workmen  toil  in  vain.*' 

A   tremendous    crash   at   this  point 


drowned  the  last  note,  and  amid 
screams,  cries  and  shouts  the  crowd 
upon  the  platform  were  hurled  into  the 
cellar  beneath,  amidst  earth,  rubbish 
and  broken  boards.  For  a  moment 
there  was  the  wildest  terror  and  confu- 
sion. It  was  some  time  ere  the  sem- 
blance of  order  could  be  restored,  or 
the  extent  of  injury  ascertained.  Hap- 
pily no  bones  were  broken,  but  there 
were  numerous  sprains  and  contusions. 
The  white  muslins  were  sadly  rent  and 
torn,  but  after  repairing  damages  a  de- 
gree of  equanimity  was  restored  and 
the  sumptuous  entertainment  was  serv- 
ed. This  was  followed  by  various 
pastimes, — wrestling,  running  and  oth- 
er athletic  sports.  It  was  dark  before 
the  crowd  dispersed,  and  the  great 
raising  formed  a  topic  of  conversation 
for  months.  Most  dire  calamities  were 
prognosticated  from  the  accident,  by 
the-  superstitious.  Fatal  prophecies 
foredooming  the  future  of  the  family  at 
"  Fatherland  mansion." 

Aunt  Judy  Dole  was  vehement  in 
her  diatribes.  A  nephew,  Mr.  Benja- 
min Wadleigh,  who  had  taken  the  place 
of  the  late  James  Stickney  in  the 
household,  received  a  severe  sprain  in 
his  shoulder,  which  incapacitated  him 
from  labor  for  some  time.  "And  serv- 
ed him  right,"  the  old  woman  exclaim- 
ed in  her  most  oracular  manner.  "He'd 
better  have  staid  at  home  and  minded 
his  business  than  hyty-titying  over  to 
Byfield  to  sing  psalm  tunes  at  such  a 
frolic,  and  to  that  great  popish  stringed 
instrument  of  Baal,  too.  Sposin'  old 
parson  Moses  Parsons'  son  was  gwiue 
to  build  a  house  ;  because  it  was  bigger 
than  common  he  needn't  make  such  a 
fuss,  other  folks  had  built  big  houses. 
The  saying  was,  destruction  went  afore 
a  fall ;  she  guessed  destruction  would 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


75 


come  arter,  this  time.  She  hoped  it 
would  1'arn  the  young  folks  sense, — 
show  'em  taint  all  gold  that  glittered." 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Turnpikes  were  superseding  the 
common  roads  on  the  more  important 
routes  of  travel,  and  one  was  projected 
between  Newburyport  and  Boston.  A 
company  was  formed,  the  shares  sold 
and  the  work  commenced.  The  con- 
struction of  this  road  caused  consider- 
ble  excitement  in  the  communfty. 
Most  were  enthusiastic  in  its  favor, 
while  others  thought  the  additional  con- 
venience insufficient  to  repay  such  an 
outlay.  As  several  of  our  family  were 
stockholders,  and  David  Emery  assisted 
on  the  survey,  we  were  especially  in- 
terested. David  often  passed  the  Sab- 
bath at  his  grandfather  Little's,  and  he 
usually  dropped  in  to  talk  over  the 
work  with  father.  He  disapproved  of 
the  plan  of  the  road — thought  it  would 
have  been  better  to  have  built  it  to  Sa- 
lem, to  connect  with  that  from  Salem 
to  Boston.  Then  he  did  not  favor  an 
exactly  straight  thoroughfare  if  it  must 
be  carried  over  wide  morasses  and  such 
lofty  eminences  as  the  Topsfield  hills. 
Though  then  a  mere  youth,  I  think  the 
verdict  of  posterity  would  endorse  the 
young  man's  ideas.  Through  the  un- 
counted multitude  of  obstacles  that 
usually  arise  to  impede  a  public  work, 
the  road  was  steadily  pushed  with  re- 
markable energy.  Huge  hotels  and 
spacious  stables  were  erected  at  points 
convenient  for  relays,  and  every  then 
modern  improvement  made  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  travel.  At  the  time 


of  my  first  visit  to  town  only  one  stage 
plied  on  alternate  days  between  New- 
bun  port  and  the  capital — going  one 
morning  and  returning  the  next  after- 
noon. I  well  remember  my  first  sight 
of  a  stage  and  the  delight  with  which 
I  gazed  at  the  huge  leathern  convey- 
ance, with  its  gaudily  emblazoned  yel- 
low body  and  the  four  prancing  white 
steeds.  Soon  after  rela}rs  were  estab- 
lished and  the  stage  went  out  and  re- 
turned each  day.  As  the  travel  in- 
creased teams  were  added  and  the 
Eastern  Stage  Company  was  formed. 

On  account  of  ill  health,  Col.  Stephen 
Bartlett  had  severed  his  connection  with 
the  firm  of  Peabody  &  Waterman. 
Confirmed  consumptionjiad  been  feared 
but  after  a  winter  passed  in  Charleston, 
S.  C.,  Col.  Bartlett  returned  with  in- 
creased vigor.  Active  occupation  was 
recommended.  The  stage  company 
were  seeking  an  agent.  The  position 
was  offered  to  Mr.  Bartlett,  and  he  im- 
mediately entered  upon  its  duties.  This 
appointment  was  eminently  appropriate, 
and  the  gentleman  remained  in  the  em- 
ploy of  the  compaivy  until  obliged  to 
surrender  to  the  ravages  of  the  fell  dis- 
ease which  at  last  claimed  him  as  its 
victim.  One  afternoon,  the  summer  I 
was  sixteen,  I  rode  into  town  and  had 
just  entered  aunt  Bartlett's  parlor  when 
uncle  Bartlett  drove  to  the  door,  on  the 
box  of  a  hack  in  which  were  seated  my 
aunt  Peabody  and  cousin  Sophronia. 
Reining  up  his  pair  of  spanking  bays 
before  the  open  window,  he  greet- 
ed me :  "I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Sally. 
Put  on  your  bonnet  and  tell  your  aunt 
to  don  hers,  and  I  will  give  you  a  ride 
with  Mrs.  Peabody  and  Fronie.  The 
turnpike  is  graded  to  the  third  mile- 
stone, and  I  intend  that  you  shall  have 
the  honor  of  being  the  first  ladies  to 


76 


REMINISCENCES 


pass  over  it."  Of  course  I  was  high- 
ly delighted.  We  were  soon  seated. 
My  aunts  and  cousin  were  in  high 
spirits,  and  altogether  it  was  a  very 
merry  time.  There  was  a  little  stir  of 
enthusiasm  amid  the  group  lingering 
about  the  steps  of  the  "Wolfe  Tavern," 
and  we  received  many  polite  greetings 
as  we  drove  forward.  It  was  rather 
soft  wheeling  over  the  freshly-strewn 
gravel,  but  that  did  not  signify ;  our 
horses  were  young  and  strong,  their 
load  light,  and  we  dashed  forward  in 
fine  style.  The  third  milestone  soon 
appeared.  After  a  slight  pause  to  look 
around,  we  retraced  our  steps  and 
alighted  at  aunt  Bartlett's,  proud  of  the 
achievement  of  being  able  to  boast  that 
we  were  the  first  ladies  to  ride  over  the 
Newburyport  and  Boston  turnpike. 

The  next  year  I  had  another  ride 
with  my  uncle.  The  Plum  Island 
bridge  and  turnpike  had  been  built  the 
previous  summer.  I  was  making  my 
annual  winter  visit  in  town.  That  da}' 
I  had  dined  at  my  uncle  Peabod3*'s,  and 
we  were  rising  from  the  table,  when 
uncle  Bartlett  drove  to  the  door  in  a 
double  sleigh,  to  which  was  attached  a 
splendid  span  of  white  horses.  He 
was  accompanied  by  Capt.  Stoodle}-,  a 
brother  of  Mrs.  William  Bartlett,  jr., of 
Portsmouth,  N.  H.  Throwing  him  the 
reins,  uncle  Bartlett  ran  in,  exclaiming  : 
"  Come,  girls  ;  I  have  a  pair  of  horses 
that  I  wish  to  prove,  and  I  will  give 
you  a  ride.  Wrap  up  well,  fo/  it  is  a 
snapping  cold  day."  Aunt  Peabody 
told  us  to  hasten.  "Put  on  all  your 
furs,"  she  added,  as  she  filled  a  stove 
for  our  feet.  We  were  quickly  en- 
sconced on  the  back  seat,  well  wrapped 
in  buffaloes.  Uncle  Bartlett  turned  his 
horses  toward  Plum  Island.  There  was 
not  much  path,  but  the  powerful  steeds 


dashed  lightly  along.  We  had  pro- 
ceeded to  the  entrance  to  the  bridge. 
when  our  further  progress  was  stopped 
by  a  huge  snow  drift.  With  some  diffi- 
culty our  experienced  whip  turned  his 
team.  Proceeding  in  the  direction  of 
' '  High  street "  we  soon  reached  that 
well-trodden  thoroughfare.  Though 
much  more  sparsely  built  than  now,  it 
was  a  handsome  avenue  and  a  pleasant 
drive. 

In  my  childhood  Frog  pond  was  the 
center  of  a  tangled  wilderness  of  alder 
and  other  bushes,  and  at  the  upper  end 
there  was  a  frightful  ravine.  Near  this 
gully  stood  the  gun  house,  where  the 
cannon  belonging  to  the  artillery  corn- 
pan}'  was  kept.  Back  on  the  heights 
stood  an  ancient  windmill.  Below,  near 
the  margin  of  the  pond,  stretched  a 
long  rope  walk.  This  was  removed  to 
give  place  for  the  commencement  of  the 
turnpike.  Back  of  the  pond  was  lo- 
cated quite  an  extensive  potteiy  for  the 
manufacture  of  brown  glazed  earthern 
ware.  In  the  year  commencing  the 
present  century  the  streets  of  the  town 
received  much  improvement,  and  in  the 
summer  of  that  year  the  gulley  at  the 
head  of  Green  street  was  filled  up,  and 
the  mall  was  laid  out,  graded  and  railed. 
Capt.  Edmund  Bartlett  gave  fourteen 
hundred  dollars  towards  this  public  im- 
provement, which  cost  about  eighteen 
hundred.  In  honor  of  this  munificence, 
the  park  received  the  name  of  '  •  Bartlett 
Mall." 

In  the  summer  of  1805  the  Court 
house  was  erected.  The  building  was 
ornamented  by  the  figure  of  Justice 
holding  a  scale  and  sword,  which  sur- 
mounted the  pedestal.  St.  Paul's 
Church  was  built  that  same  year,  and 
within  a  short  period  several  handsome 
private  residences  had  also  been  erect- 


OF   A 


77 


ed,  adding  much  to  the  beauty  of  the 
street.  Dexter  had  increased  his  im- 
ages ;  his  plan  was  in  full  glory  ;  Sen- 
tinals  mounted  guard.  Jefferson  had 
joined  Washington  and  Adams  over  the 
front  entrance.  Beneath  the  Presi- 
dents was  a  bass-relief  of  the  Goddess 
of  Liberty.  An  half  hour's  ride 
brought  us  to  Parsons'  tavern  on  Deer 
island,  at  the  Essex  Merrimac  bridge. 
This  was  a  noted  place  for  pleasure 
parties.  A  delightful  spot  in  summer, 
and  a  noted  rendezvous  for  sleighing 
parties  in  winter,  when  a  supper  and 
dance  were  enjoyed.  At  the  first  snow 
a  rush  was  made  for  Parsons',  where 
the  first  comer  was  treated  to  a  bottle 
of  wine  by  mine  host.  Though  our 
horses  had  skimmed  over  the  snow  like 
birds,  the  day  was  so  intensely  cold  we 
were  fairly  benumbed,  and  the  bright 
wood  fire  was  exceedingly  grateful. 
Capt.  Stdooley,  according  to  the  custom 
of  the  period,  politely  brought  my 
cousin  and  myself  a  glass  of  wine. 
Warmed  and  refreshed  we  retraced  our 
steps,  fully .  satisfied  with  the  steed, 
which  Col.  Bartlett  immediately  secur- 
ed for  the  "  Stage  Company." 

Two  other  memorable  rides  fell  to 
my  destiny  that  year.  Toward  spring 
father's  ox-cart  needed  new  tires. 
Much  to  his  surprise  none  could  be 
found  in  Newburyport.  Some  one  di- 
rected him  to  the  store  of  old  Mr.  Da- 
vid Howe,  in  Haverhill,  where  it  was 
said  "  every  merchantable  article  could 
be  bought."  As  aunt  Chase  resided  in 
Haverhill,  father  invited  me  to  ride 
with  him.  It  was  a  raw  March  morn- 
ing and  the  sleighing  poor.  Making 
our  way  partly  in  the  fields  and  pas- 
tures, partly  in  the  road,  we  reached 
"  Cottle's  Ferry;"  there  we  took  the 
river.  The  ice  was  strong  but  full  of 


seams  made  by  cracks  which  had  been 
frozen.  Our  horse,  a  spirited  mare, 
feared  danger,  and  as  she  reached  one 
of  these  seams,  with  a  leap  would 
bound  over  it,  then  proceed  at  a  two- 
forty-pace  to  the  next ;  then  came  an- 
other bound,  and  in  this  way  the  jour- 
ney was  made. 

My  aunt  resided  in  a  large,  old-fash- 
ioned brick  mansion,  picturesquely  sit- 
uated on  the  right  bank  of  the  Merri- 
mac, about  half  a  mile  below  Haver- 
hill village.  The  road  separated  it 
from  the  river,  and  in  front  a  landing 
led  directly  to  the  house.  Leaving  me 
at  the  door  father  drove  to  the  village, 
where  he  procured  iron  which  he  lashed 
under  the  sleigh.  Having  dined  at 
Mrs.  Chase's  we  started  for  home. 
The  rattling  of  the  iron  started  Kate 
still  more,  and  the  race  was  greater 
than  in  the  morning.  I  never  was 
more  thankful  than  when  the  Ferry 
was  again  reached,  and  we  were  once 
more  on  terra  firma. 

My  other  race  was  in  the  autumn. 
It  was  customary  for  the  }roung  ladies 
of  the  neighborhood  to  give  social  tea 
parties  of  an  afternoon,  at  which  we 
assembled  at  an  early  hour,  dressed  in 
our  best,  with  our  go-abroad  knitting 
work,  usually  fine  cotton,  clocked  hose. 
Some  of  these  clocks  comprised  the 
most  elaborate  patterns.  After  tea 
the  knitting  was  laid  aside.  As  the 
evening  drew  on  the  beaux  began  to 
appear,  then  games,  or  dancing,  were 
enjoyed.  At  this  period  the  fear  of 
Parson  Wood's  anathema  had  in  a 
measure  passed  and  dancing  had  been 
generally  resumed.  We  were  permit- 
ted to  indulge  in  the  recreation  at  my 
uncle  Tenney's  when  the  deacon  was 
from  home. 

Mr.  Benjamin  Hill's  son,  Eliphalet, 


78 


REMINISCENCES 


had  become  affianced  to  Miss  Sarah 
Coffin,  of  "Scotland,"  Oldtown  parish. 
The  young  lady  had  come  to  paj-  Mr. 
Hill's  family  a  visit,  and  the  Misses 
Hills  gave  one  of  these  tea-parties  in 
her  honor.  Mr.  Hill's  residence  was 
two  miles  from  ours,  and  father  direct- 
ed me  to  go  in  the  chaise.  "Liph. 
Hills  will  take  care  of  your  horse,  Sal- 
lie,  and  you  can  take  up  the  deacon's 
girls  as  }*ou  go,"  said  he,  as  he  went 
out,  after  dinner.  We  had  recently 
purchased  a  new  ' '  fall  back  chaise  ; " 
our  old  one  had  been  a  square-topped. 
I  was  somewhat  proud  of  the  new 
equipage,  and  of  my  spirited  mare. 
Trained  from  infancy  to  ride  and  drive, 
I  was  a  fearless  horsewoman.  Jim 
harnessed  Kate,  and  I  drove  over  to 
uncle  Tenney's,  where  I  was  joined  by 
my  cousins  Joan  and  Lydia.  The' af- 
ternoon and  evening  were  passed  most 
pleasantly.  I  recollect  leading  down  a 
new  contra  figure  with  my  second  cous- 
in, Billy  Noyes,  who  was  a  capital 
dancer — we  two  usually  headed  the 
set.  Fun  and  frolic  ruled  the  hour  till 
after  nine  o'clock,  when  my  horse  was 
brought  to  the  door.  There  were  other 
vehicles,  and  gentlemen's  and  ladies' 
saddle  horses,  awaiting.  My  cousins 
and  I  sprang  into  our  chaise  and  I 
drove  forward.  We  had  reached  the 
summit  of  Plummer's  hill  when  Kate 
began  to  prick  up  her  ears  and,  with  a 
sniff,  to  gather  in  her  paces.  The  clat- 
ter of  approaching  hoofs  struck  my 
ear,  and.  before  I  could  realize  the  sit- 
uation, William  Thurrell  and  my  cousin 
William  Smith  rushed  past  on  horse- 
back, the  horses  going  at  the  top  of 
their  speed.  One  took  the  right,  the 
other  the  left  of  my  chaise.  As  they 
swept  past,  Kate  gave  a  snort  and, 
springing  forward,  joined  in  the  race. 


Down  we  went,  at  a  break-neck  speed, 
down  the  steep  declivity,  the  loose 
stones  of  the  rough  road  frying  in  every 
direction.  As  the  horse  was  beyond 
my  control,  all  I  could  do  was  to  hold 
the  reins  as  tightly  as  possible,  but,  as 
they  were  new,  I  felt  secure.  On  we 
dashed,  through  "Tea  street."  It  was 
impossible  for  me  to  turn  to  take  my 
cousins  home,  nor  could  I  stop  until  the 
schoolhouse  was  reached.  Here  my 
companions  were  able  to  alight,  but 
were  obliged  to  walk  back  about  half  a 
mile,  while  I  proceeded  up  Crane-neck 
hill  at  a  more  leisurely  pace.  The 
3~oung  men  were  somewhat  frightened 
at  the  escapade,  but.  upon  the  whole, 
enjoyed  it  vastly,  declaring,  much  to 
rny  vexation,  that  "little  Sally  Smith 
can  beat  the  best  jockey  in  the  whole 
country  around." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

In  contradistinction  to  the  church 
from  which  they  had  separated,  our 
forefathers  had  established  a  severe 
simplicity  in  public  worship,  which,  as 
the  country  grew  older,  and  society  in- 
creased in  liberality  and  culture,  became 
distasteful  to  the  more  }*outhful  portion 
of  the  population.  Deaconing  hymns 
had  become  nearly  obsolete,  and  musi- 
cal instruments  began  to  appear  in  the 
singing  seats. 

Though  severe  and  strict  in  theologi- 
cal dogmas,  Parson  Woods  was.  upon 
the  whole,  a  progressive  man.  Through 
his  influence  our  choir  had  greatly  im- 
proved in  singing,  and  when  it  was  pro- 
posed to  have  a  viol  accompaniment,  he 
made  no  objection.  Accordingly,  one 


OF  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


79 


fine  summer  morning,  Mr.  Ben.  Brown, 
with  an  important  air,  marched  up  the 
gallery  stairs,  bearing  his  bass-viol  in 
his  hand.  There  was  a  sensational  stir 
throughout  the  singing  seats.  Mr.  Ed- 
mund Little  tiptoed  to  and  fro.  There 
were  nods  and  whispers,  shuffling  of 
the  leaves  of  singing  books  ;  then  came 
the  prelirninan-  screams,  screeches, 
grunts,  growls,  sees  and  saws  from  the 
viol.  While  this  was  proceeding,  the 
faces  of  the  congregation  were  a  study 
worthy  of  a  Hogarth.  Amazement  sub- 
sided into  curiosity  ;  the  younger  por- 
tion sat  in  smiling  expectanc}-,  while 
their  elders  glanced  at  one  another,  dis- 
approval written  in  every  wrinkle  of 
their  sour  visages,  and  the  children 
gazed  with  wide  open  eyes  and  open- 
mouthed  astonishment.  At  the  first  in- 
timation of  the  idea  of  having  this  in- 
strumental accompaniment,  aunt  Judy 
Dole  had  entered  her  vehement  protest 
against  it.  She  and  her  sisters  occu- 
pied seats  upon  the  women's  bench  in 
the  gallery.  At  the  first  sight  of  Mr. 
Brown,  the  old  ladj-'s  face  grew  rigid ; 
stern  determination  and  severe  disap- 
proval became  legible  in  every  line. 
Parson  Woods  and  his  family  came  in, 
and  the  usual  masculine  rush  followed  ; 
the  last  loiterer  had  become  seated  and 
the  last  pew  door  had  been  slammed. 
Parson  Woods,  as  was  customary, 
opened  the  service  with  a  short  prayer  ; 
then  the  hymn  was  named  and  read, 
and  the  choir  arose,  in  rustling  impor- 
tance. Mr.  Brown,  with  the  air  of  an 
emperor,  drew  his  bow  across  the 
strings.  At  the  first  sound,  up  jumped 
aunt  Judy,  and.  with  indignant  opposi- 
tion in  ever}1  creak  of  the  high-heeled 
channeled  pumps,  she  firmly  strode 
through  the  galleiy  and  down  the  stairs, 
then,  passing  out  at  the  front  door, 


seated  herself  on  the  horse-block,  re- 
maining there  during  the  service.  At 
its  close  she  rode  home  with  the  rest  of 
the  family,  but  it  was  a  long  time  ere 
the  prim  maiden  became  sufficiently 
reconciled  to  the  new  fashion  to  appear 
in  her  wonted  place  on  the  Sabbath. 

The  second  year  of  her  widowhood, 
aunt  Hannah  Stickney  married  Mr. 
Samuel  Noyes,  of  the  "  Farms,"  New- 
bury.  This  gentlemen,  a  descendant 
of  John,*oldest  son  of  Nicholas  Noves, 
a  widower  with  four  children,  was  a 
cousin  of  her  first  husband.  Many 
wondered  that  so  young  a  women  as 
aunt  Hannah  should  feel  willing  to  as- 
sume the  responsibility  of  rearing  and 
training  so  many  small  children .  Though 
the  young  widow  had  returned  to  her 
father's  house,  she  could  not  make  it 
the  girlish  home  which  she  had  left  with 
a  heart  so  full  of  buoyant  hope.  Mr. 
Noyes  had  been  most  kind  in  his  minis- 
trations during  Mr.  Stickney's  illness, 
upbearing  the  fainting  souls  of  the  sick 
man  and  his  family,  by  his  firm  faith,  and 
devotional  spirit.  Through  every  trial 
he  had  been  a  vtrue  comforter  to  Mrs. 
Stickney,  thereby  winning  her  gratitude 
and  affectionate  interest.  This* good 
man  needed  a  wife,  his  children  needed 
a  mother,  she  could  supply  this  need. 
Cheerfully  and  lovingly  her  life's  work 
was  assumed.  How  well  this  task  was 
performed,  the  reverent  respect  and 
love  of  her  family  attested.  To  no  one 
could  more  properly  be  applied  the  scrip- 
ture text,  "Her  children  rise  up  and 
call  her  blessed  ;  her  husband  also,  and 
he  praiseth  her."  The  second  nuptials 
were  strictly  private,  the  ceremony  be- 
ing performed  at  the  residence  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Parish,  in  Byfield.  The  little, 
black  doctor,  greatly  diverted  one  of 
his  favorite  parishioners,  Mrs.  Moses 


80 


REMINISCENCES 


Colman,  by  the  information  that  the 
day  previous  he  had  married  the  hand- 
somest woman  he  ever  saw,  to  Mr.  Sam 
Noyes.  "  Such  black  eyes,  Mrs.  Col- 
man, such  a  complexion,  and  such  a 
sweet  j'et  sparkling  expression.  Oh, 
she  is  a  beaut)',  Mrs.  Colman  !  I  have 
thought  you  as  handsome  as  any  woman 
I  ever  saw,  but  this  one  is  handsomer ; 
ves,"  musingly  added  the  divine,  as  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  critically 
examined  his  companion's  fac3  through 
half  closed  ej*es,  "yes,  Mrs.  Colman,  I 
must  decide  that  of  the  two  she  is  the 
handsomest." 

Much  amused,  Mrs  Colman  inquired 
the  beauty's  name. 

' '  Hannah  Stickney ;  her  maiden 
name  was  Little." 

' '  Why  Doctor,  she  is  my  own  cous- 
in," the  lady  replied  with  surprise. 

"Well,  you  may  be  proud  of  your 
cousin,  Mrs.  Colman,  and  I  must  say 
your  famil)'  may  be  proud  of  them- 
selves. Such  a  splendid  set  of  black- 
e)Ted  queens  !  Why  they  are  positively 
regal !  Yes,  yes,  positively  regal ! " 
This  was  too  good  to  be  kept  private, 
and  the  black-eyed  queens  were  duly 
informed  ot  the  distinguished  doctor's 
tribute  to  their  lovliness. 

The  prostration  of  grief  at  length 
passed,  and  aunt  Adams  began  to  take 
her  wonted  interest  in  the  cares  and 
duties  of  life.  As  the  house  was  in- 
convenient for  two  families,  the  second 
year  of  her  widowhood  Mrs.  Adams 
took  the  farm  into  her  own  manage- 
ment. Mr.  Adams  had  built  a  shoe- 
maker's shop  when  he  first  took  posses- 
sion of  the  premises.  This  was  hired 
by  two  or  three  young  men,  former  ap- 
prentices of  uncle  Bill  Little.  Having 
come  of  age,  they  commenced  business 
for  themselves,  boarding  with  aunt 


Adams,  Nabby  Smith   still   being   re- 
tained as  an  assistant. 

As  soon  as  aunt  Hannah  had  become 
established    in    her    new  home,    aunt 
Adams  and  myself  were  invited  to  pa)- 
her  a  visit.      Accordingly,   one  warm 
August  morning,  we  set  out.     We  took 
aunt  Adams'   chaise    and   our  horse. 
We  had  passed  the  factory  and  were 
approaching  the   "Fatherland  Farm," 
when  the  pin  broke  and  the  right  wheel 
dropped.     Luckily,  the  horse  stopped 
instantly,  and  I  sprang  out  and  held 
her    head    while    aunt   Adams    could 
alight.     What  next  was  to  be  done? 
Looking  around,  I  espied  Mr.  Gorham 
Parsons  and  some  workmen  in  an  adja- 
cent field.     I  started  to  gain  their  as- 
sistance,  but  Mr.  Parsons,  perceiving 
our  dilemma,  came  forward  to  meet  me, 
accompanied  by  one  of  the  men,  who 
proved  to  be  Joe  Gould,  who  was  often 
employed  at  our  farm.     Gould  took  the 
chaise  to  Mr.  Moses  Dole's  blacksmith 
shop,  which  was  a  short  distance  be- 
3Tond,  and  Mr.  Parsons  escorted  aunt 
Adams  and  myself  to  the  house,  which 
was  now  finished  and  furnished  in  great 
elegance,  being  the  most  imposing  man- 
sion in  the  vicinity ;  with  its  well-or- 
dered stables  and  other  appointments, 
forming  an  establishment  of  which  the 
proprietor  might  well  be  proud.     The 
housekeeper,  Mrs.  Plummer,  was  called, 
and  we  were  shown  into  a  parlor.     A 
bell  rang  above  stairs,   succeeded  by 
much  running  to  and  fro.      Xext  a  ne- 
gro page  flung  wide  the  door,  and,  with 
a  profound  obeisance,  ushered  in  Mr. 
Parsons,  supporting  on  his  arm  a  stout, 
florid-complexioned  woman,  habited  in 
a    white    dimity    wrapper,    her    head 
adorned  by  a  crape  turban. {surmounting 
a  frisette  of  light  curls  ;  her  gouty  feet, 
encased  in  velvet  slippers,   were  still 


OF  A 

further  assisted  by  a  gold-headed  cane. 
This  lady,  Madame  Eben  Parsons,  Mr. 
Gorham  Parsons'  mother,  was  followed 
by  Mrs.  Plummer,  bearing  a  fan  and 
scent-bottle,  while  the  rear  of  the  pro- 
cession was  brought  up  by  a  young 
waiting  maid,  loaded  with  a  footstool, 
shawl  and  cushions. 

The  ceremony  of  introduction  over, 
after  much  fixing  and  fussing,  chang- 
ing from  one  window  to  another,  ar- 
ranging and  rearranging  of  footstool 
and  cushions,  Madame  Parsons  at 
length  became  seated  and  at  leisure  to 
turn  her  attention  to  her  visitors.  She 
expressed  delight  on  learning  that  we 
were  relatives  of  her  friend  Mrs.  Moses 
Colman,  of  whom  she  spoke  in  the 
highest  terms.  Her  sons  also  received 
the  meed  of  praise.  As  they  often 
went  on  business  between  the  "  Fath- 
erland Farm  "  and  Mr.  Parsons's  es- 
tate in  Brighton,  the  lady  had  made 
their  acquaintance. 

I  well  remembered  David  Emery's 
first  visit  to  Boston,  then  a  lad  of 
twelve, — a  most  remarkable  event  it 
then  seemed  to  me,  a  ten  year  old  girl. 
How  eagerly  I  listened  to  every  minu- 
tae  of  the  tour  which  was  made  in  com- 
pany with  his  elder  brother,  Jeremiah 
Colman.  They  took  two  pigs  of  the 
famous  "B}Tfield"  breed  from  the 
"  Fatherland  Farm"  to  Brighton,  in  a 
spring  cart,  drawn  by  a  favorite  family 
mare  named  Dorcas.  The  journey  was 
made  in  one  day,  and  they  returned  on 
the  next.  The  night  was  passed  at 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Eben  Parsons  in 
Boston.  This  was  an  ancient  structure 
on  Summer  street.  A  flight  of  steps 
led  directly  from  the  sidewalk  to  the 
front  door  which  opened  into  a  square 
hall  that  was  used  as  a  parlor  ;  in  the 
rear,  stood  a  large  stable,  and  in  front 

11 


81 

stretched  a  common  upon  which  Mr. 
Parsons's  two  cows  were  pastured. 

Cake  and  wine  served  we  were  invit- 
ed into  the  garden,  which  lying  on  a 
gentle  declivity  was  laid  out  in  terra- 
ces, the  walks  bordered  by  trim  hedges 
of  box.  There  was  a  variety  of  choice 
flowers  and  fruit.  Having  been  regaled 
with  fine  specimens  of  early  pears  and 
each  presented  with  a  magnificent  bou- 
quet ;  as  our  chaise  had  arrived,  neatly 
repaired,  we  made  our  adieus  amid  mu- 
tual compliments  and  hopes  of  contin- 
uing our  acquaintance  thus  accidentally 
formed.  A  few  moments'  ride  brought 
us  to  "  Dummer  Academy," — the  Gov. 
Dummer  Mansion  House,  the  same  fine 
specimen  of  colonial  architecture  it  is 
to-day.  The  Academj-  was  the  old 
building,  a  gambrel-roofed,  one-story 
structure  with  a  low,  dome-capped 
belfry  facing  the  highway.  This,  the 
"  Alma  Mater"  of  David  Emery,  the 
Colman  boys  and  other  youthful 
friends,  was  to  me  a  spot  of  much  in- 
terest. 

Crossing  the  bridge  over  the  river 
Parker  we  soon  found  ourselves  in  the 
precincts  of  the  "Farms."  As  Aunt 
Adams  wished  to  call  upon  relatives  of 
her  late  husband,  we  stopped  at  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Israel  and  the  widow 
Liffe  Adams.  We  found  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Israel  Adams  seated  either  side  of  the 
wide  fire-place,  in  which  smouldered  a 
few  embers.  Their  daughter  Polly  was 
knitting  by  the  window.  She  expressed 
reat  pleasure  at  seeing  us,  and  as  she 
had  been  a  favorite  schoolmate  of  Da- 
vid Emery's,  and  I  had  often  heard  him 
speak  of  her,  I  was  happy  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  belle  and  heiress  of 
the  neighborhood.  Mrs.  Liflfe  Adams 
and  her  daughter  Eunice  were  weaving 
in  a  shop  contiguous.  Polly  having 


82 


REMESriSOKPTCES 


summoned  them  to  the  house,  a  great 
rejoicing  ensued.     They  were  delighted 
to  see  their  nephew's  widow,  and  I  was 
warmly    welcomed.      They    all   spoke 
with  the  greatest  satisfaction   of  Mr. 
Noyes'  good  fortune  in  securing  Aunt 
Hannah  for  a  wife.     After  a  pleasant 
call  we  took  leave  with  a  promise  to 
take  tea  with  them  on  the  next  after- 
noon.    A  few  moments  brought  us  to 
the  Noyes  homestead,  a  large,  square 
house,  surrounded  by  barns  and  other 
farm  buildings.     Maj.  Noyes  occupied 
the  lower,  and  his  son  the  upper  half. 
I  knocked  at  the  front  door,  but  as  no 
one  came  I  stepped  into  the  hall ;  as 
my  knock   was  evidently   unheard,    I 
made  my  way  through  a  back  room  to 
the  long  kitchen  and  there  I  found  the 
senior  Mrs.  Noyes.     The  old  lady  was 
washing  the  large  hearth,  exhibiting  in 
the    process    an   excess   of    neatness, 
which  I  never  saw  either  before  or  since. 
She  had  gathered  the  remnants  of  the 
morning  fire  on  a  shovel  and  was  wash- 
ing ever}-  brick.     I  quite  startled  the 
good  woman,  but  upon  her  learning  who 
I  was,  and  that  Aunt  Adams  was  wait- 
ing outside,  she  expressed  much  joy  at 
our  coming,  and  despatched  the  maid 
servant  for  Aunt  Hannah,  who  was  in 
the   garden.     My  aunt  came  with   all 
speed.     As  we  were  the  first  members 
of  her  family  that  she  had  seen  since 
her  marriage,  her  greeting  was   very 
cordial.     The    male   members   of   her 
family  were  in  the  meadows,  the  chil- 
dren  at   school ;    as   the   school-house 
was  at  some  distance  they  dined  at  their 
uncle   Nat   Moody's,  whose   residence 
was  near  to  it,  consequently  we  had  a 
nice,  easy  tune,   all  to  ourselves.     In 
the  afternoon,  Grandmam'  Noyes  and 
Miss  Becky,  a  single  daughter,  joined 
us  in  Aunt  Hannah's  room.     Between 


five  and  six  the  children  came  home,  a 
nice  girl  of  ten,  quite  a  little  "help" 
to  her  step-mother,  and  two  bright 
boys,  whose  affections  she  had  evident- 

won.  At  dusk  the  "  men  folks  "  ar- 
rived. The  two  gentlemen  expressed 
great  pleasure  at  meeting  us.  The  ma- 
jor, a  gallant  man  of  the  old  school, 
like  his  son  and  the  Rev  Dr.  Parish, 
was  a  great  admirer  of  black  eyes.  He 
was  pleased  to  be  exceedingly  compli- 
mentary, I  saw  that  Aunt  Hannah  was 
a  favorite  with  the  old  gentleman,  as 
she  evidently  had  become  with  the 
whole  family.  After  tea,  as  it  was  a 
bright  moonlight  evening,  we  walked 
out  to  the  family  burial  place,  which 
was  situated  on  a  slight  eminence  in  a 
pleasant  grove  back  of  the  house. 

The  next  afternoon,  accompanied  by 
aunt  Hannah  and  Miss  Becky  Noyes, 
we  paid  the  proposed  visit  to  the 
Adams  family.  We  enjoyed  their 
compam',  and  were  most  hospitably  en- 
tertained. At  tea  we  were  joined  by 
Mrs.  Liffe  Adams'  son,  Robert,  a  bash- 
ful and  eccentric  stripling  of  eighteen. 
Much  to  my  amusement  and  that  of 
my  two  aunts,  every  endeavor  was  put 
forth,  by  his  mother  and  other  relatives, 
to  render  the  young  man  companiona- 
ble to  me.  Sly  promptings  were  given 
on  every  hand  to  induce  him  to  show 
his  gallantry,  but  the  poor  youth  was 
sadly  at  a  loss,  completely  discomfited. 
Mrs.  Adams,  actirig,  perhaps,  upon  the 
principle  that  children  left  alone  the 
better  facilitate  their  acquaintance,  after 
tea  took  the  others  to  look  at  her  cheese. 
Poor  Robert,  thus  cast  upon  his  own 
resources,  did  his  best  at  being  agreea- 
ble, but  his  efforts  were  so  ludicrous 
that,  after  a  vain  endeavor  to  maintain 
composure,  I  was  obliged  to  rush  into 
the  front  yard,  under  the  pretence  of 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


83 


looking  at  the  sweet  balm,  but  in  real- 
ity to  suppress  nry  risibles.  The  rest 
joined  me,  and,  as  aunt  Adams  thought 
we  had  better  return  that  night,  we 
soon  took  leave.  A  pleasant  ride,  with- 
out any  adventure,  carried  us  home. 
Our  visit  had  been  most  satisfactory, 
and  we  assured  our  friends  that,  how- 
ever much  others  might  doubt,  we  were 
certain  that  aunt  Hannah  had  not  mis- 
taken her  vocation. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Aunt  8us3r  Dole  was  a  confirmed  in- 
valid, and  sometimes  had  ill  turns,  when 
a  watcher  was  required.  At  the  period 
of  Mr.  Stickney's  and  the  baby's  ill- 
ness I  had  been  so  much  in  the  family, 
that  the  sisters  had  been  in  the  habit  o' 
sending  for  me  at  the  slightest  ailment. 
One  sultry,  foggy  night,  the  first  of 
September,  a  summons  came  to  watch 
with  aunt  Susy.  Our  straw  work  had 
been  unusually  pressing,  and  I  really 
felt  unable  to  sit  up  all  night.  Aunt 
Sarah  declared  I  should  not  go,  "  that 
Susy  Dole  no  more  needed  a  watcher 
than  a  cat  needed  two  tails."  Mother, 
who  always  considered  every  one's  com- 
fort before  her  own,  thought  I  had  bet- 
ter go.  About  eight  o'clock  I  went. 
I  found  the  brothers  and  sisters  seated 
in  the  kitchen,  the  door  being  ajar  into 
the  room  where  aunt  Susy  lay  in  bed. 
After  a  little  chat,  a  candle  was  placed 
on  the  round  stand,  when  uncle  Amos 
proceeded  to  read  a  chapter  from  the 
Bible.  The  old  gentleman  was  troub- 
led with  a  cough ;  he  always  kept  a 
mug  of  colts-foot  tea  handy  on  the 
dresser.  He  would  read  a  few  verses 


and  stop  to  cough ;  then  taking  a  sip  of 
the  tea  he  would  proceed,  and  in  this 
way,  the  long  chapter  was  at  length  fin- 
ished. Then  each  rose  and  bowing 
over  their  chair,  reverently  joined  in 
the  long  prayer,  which,  like  the  read- 
ing, was  frequently  interrupted  by 
coughs  and  sips  of  the  medicine.  Un- 
cle Amos  would  have  been  shocked  at 
anything  that  bordered  on  ritualism. 
The  bare  mention  of  a  liturg}r  was 
enough  to  raise  the  hair  from  his  Brow, 
yet,  by  custom,  he  had  brought  this 
daily  prayer  into  a  set  formula,  which 
scarcely  varied  from  day  to  day.  He 
prayed  for  every  body  and  every  thing : 
"The  president,  vice-president  and 
both  houses  of  congress  ;  the^  govern- 
or, the  lieut. -governor,  the  clergy,  the 
colleges  and  schools ;  the  aged,  infirm 
and  dying ;  the  pensioners,  the  poor 
and  afflicted  ;  travellers  by  land  and 
all  those  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in 
ships."  The  length}-  petition  ended, 
the  family  retired  and  I  entered  upon 
my  duty.  Aunt  Susy  seemed  very 
comfortable,  said  "  her  abb  tea  was  all 
that  she  should  need,  but  that  must  be 
kept  hot."  I  added  a  few  sticks  to  the 
smouldering  fire,  and  placed  a  pewter 
porringer  of  balm  tea  on  the  embers. 
After  inquiries  respecting  aunt  Hannah 
and  her  new  home,  the  invalid  fell 
asleep.  Screening  the  candle,  I  took 
a  pile  of  "  Newburyport  Heralds,"  (un- 
cle Amos  was  a  constant  subscriber  to 
that  paper) ,  and  whiled  away  a  couple 
of  hours ;  then  aunt  Susy  awoke  and 
demanded  the  tea  ;  to  my  chagrin  it  was 
not  warm  enough  to  suit,  and  I  was 
compelled  to  reheat  it.  When  it  was 
ready,  my  patient  was  again  in  sound 
slumber.  Fearing  that  she  might 
awake  and  ask  for  the  tea,  I  kept  up  the 
fire  until  the  heat  became  intolerable. 


84 


EEMEN1SOENOE  S 


Tiptoeing  into  the  kitchen,  I  opened  the 
outer  door,  but  was  met  by  such  a 
swarm  of  mosquitos,  engendered  by  the 
vicinity  of  the  pond,  that  it  was  instant- 
ly closed.  I  returned  to  the  bedroom 
and  sinking  into  aunt  Susy's  easy  chair, 
unintentionally  dropped  asleep.  When 
I  awoke  the  room  was  pitchy  dark,  my 
head  was  in  a  whirl  and  every  limb 
ached.  I  sprang  for  a  candle,  but  was 
so  turned  round  by  the  sudden  awaken- 
ing it  was  difficult  to  find  the  table  ;  at 
length  the  candle,  a  small  dip  with  a 
tow  wick,  was  lightened,  the  fire  re- 
plenished, and  much  to  my  relief  the 
herb  tea  boiling  when  aunt  Susy  awoke. 
It  suited  this  time.  Dawn  began  to 
break,  and  aunt  Judy  relieved  my  vigil. 
The  sick  woman  bade  me  good  morn- 
ing, with  many  encomiums  upon  my 
skill  as  a  nurse,  declared  I  had  been 
the  best  watcher  she  had  had.  I  ar- 
rived at  home  in  time  to  assist  in  set- 
ting off  father  and  the  boys,  who  were 
going  to  Plum  Island  to  rake  the  last 
freight  of  hay  for  that  season.  It  was 
an  exceedingly  sultry  morning,  but 
about  eleven  o'clock  a  thunder  shower 
came  up,  after  which  the  wind  changed 
to  north-east :  a  drenching  rain  set  in 
accompanied  by  a  high  wind,  which,  as 
the  afternoon  advanced,  grew  into  a 
tremendous  gale.  We  were  much  wor- 
ried respecting  father  and  the  boys,  as 
they  did  not  return,  but  concluded  that 
they  had  sought  shelter  at  one  of  the 
two  farm  houses  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
island. 

With  some  difficulty  we  managed  to 
get  the  cows  and  tie  them  up  in  the 
barn.  The  milking  and  other  chores 
done,  we  tried  to  pass  a  cheerful  even- 
ing, but  it  did  not  avail,  and  a  some- 
what sleepless  night  followed.  The 
morning  broke  cloud}-  and  misty,  but 


the  wind  had  subsided.  The  cows  had 
been  put  in  a  part  of  the  field  which 
had  been  railed  off  for  fall  feed.  The 
bordering  wall  was  lined  by  apple 
trees ;  so  many  apples  had  blown  to 
the  ground  we  dared  not  turn  the  cows 
to  pasture  till  the}'  were  gathered.  The 
grass  and  apples  were  cold  and  wet, 
and  by  the  time  I  had  finished  picking 
them,  a  tooth  that  had  been  troublesome 
was  aching  excruciatingly.  Father  and 
the  boys  returned  that  afternoon .  They 
had  been  subjected  to  a  cold  and  wear- 
isome experience.  In  company  with 
numbers  of  other  haymakers,  they  had 
received  shelter  at  the  "Cross  Farm," 
and  slept  in  the  barn  under  an  ox-cart. 
Happy  at  their  safe  return,  I  ban- 
daged my  face  and  essayed  to  sleep. 
It  was  useless.  I  tried  cold  water  and 
hot,  cloves,  ginger,  poultices,  and 
everything  that  could  be  suggested,  to 
relieve  the  pain,  but  in  vain  !  Two  de- 
cayed teeth  ached  with  an  intolerable 
persistency  that  no  remedy  would  re- 
lieve, and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
cold  steel  would  be  the  only  panacea. 
Tired  as  he  had  been,  I  was  in  such 
distress,  my  young  brother  Joseph 
roused  himself,  and,  after  an  early 
breakfast,  we  set  forth  for  Dr.  Poore's 
residence  on  the  main  road.  The  doc- 
tor had  gone  into  the  pasture  to  fetch 
his  horse.  Mrs.  Poore,  who  was  a  fav- 
orite cousin  of  my  mother's,  gave  me  a 
most  sympathetic  welcome.  "It  was  a 
shame  to  lose  two  teeth ;  could  not 
something  be  done  to  save  them?" 
Glad  as  I  should  have  been  to  have  ar- 
rived at  a  contrary  decision,  I  felt  that 
they  must  come  out,  and  the  doctor, 
finding  that  the  sight  of  him  did  not 
scare  away  the  pain,  concurred  in  this 
opinion.  I  was  seated  in  an  arm  chair 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  Mrs. 


OF   A  NONAG-ENAIUAN'. 


85 


Poore  was  directed  to  hold  my  head. 
A  young  lady  school  teacher,  who  was 
a  boarder  in  the  family,  took  a  stool, 
and,  placing  it  at  my  side,  sat  down  to 
watch  the  doctor  and  the  gum.  I 
should  have  liked  to  have  poked  her 
over,  but  as  neither  the  doctor  nor 
Mrs.  Poore  entered  any  remonstrance 
at  what  I  deemed  an  impertinence,  of 
course  I  remained  passive.  At  sight 
of  the  cruel-looking,  old-fashioned  in- 
struments, my  little  brother  turned  pale, 
and  I  could  not  repress  a  shudder. 
Mrs.  Poore  gave  me  a  sympathetic  hug, 
and  the  doctor  applied  the  cold  steel. 
The  instrument  was  found  to  be  too 
large,  and  he  proceeded  to  wind  it  with 
his  bandanna.  I  thought  of  the  addic- 
tion to  snuff,  but  there  was  no  time  for 
squeamishness.  The  instrument  was 
again  on ;  a  jam,  a  screw,  a  twist,  a 
pull,  and  my  molar  new  across  the 
room.  The  good  doctor  was  triumph- 
ant —  ' '  such  a  splendid  pull ;  I  never 
had  better  success  !  " 

My  brother  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief, 
the  school  mistress  settled  herself  for 
another  good  look,  kind  Mrs.  Poore 
handed  a  glass  of  water,  then  again 
pityingly  took  my  head  between  her 
hands.  More  trouble  with  the  instru- 
ment slipping,  another  jam,  screw,  and 
a  crash  that  I  thought  lifted  my  scalp, 
and  sent  sparks  flying  from  my  eyes, 
this  second  tooth  was  broken  even  with 
the  gum.  After  giving  a  few  moments' 
rest,  the  doctor  proceeded  to  pry  out 
the  root.  He  jammed  and  punched  to 
no  purpose,  until  nature  could  bear  no 
more,  and  1  sank  back  almost  un- 
conscious. My  brother  started  up, 
nearly  upsetting  the  school  teacher  in 
his  eagerness,  and  vehemently  protest- 
ed against  any  further  operation.  Mrs. 
Poore  thought  he  was  right,  and  the 


doctor,  somewhat  reluctantly,  desisted 
from  his  efforts  to  extract  the  root. 
It  would  "loosen  and  come  out,"  he 
thought,  but  he  feared  I  would  suffer 
some  time.  I  was  too  much  exhausted 
to  think  ;  all  I  could  do  was  to  endure. 
The  horse  had  to  walk  the  most  of 
the  way  home,  as  the  least  jar  was  ex- 
cruciating. My  face  swelled  fearfully, 
and  my  neck  and  shoulders  were  so 
stiff,  I  could  not  lie  down  for  two  or 
three  nights ;  all  the  nourishment  I 
could  take  was  at  the  corner  of  my 
mouth  from  one  of  the  old  fashioned 
tea  spoons.  Weeks  passed  ere  I  could 
resume  my  wonted  occupations.  I  had 
not  fully  recovered  at  Thanksgiving. 
As  Nabby  Smith  had  gone  home  and 
aunt  Adams  felt  blue  alone,  father  took 
me  to  pass  the  afternoon  with  her  ;  Da- 
vid Emery  had  come  to  spend  the  fes- 
tival at  his  grandfather's,  and  towards 
night  he  and  uncle  Joe  Little  came  in 
with  Lewis  Hatch  and  William  Smith  ; 
the  two  latter  boarded  with  aunt  Ad- 
ams. The  visitors  received  a  cordial 
greeting,  and  my  aunt  insisted  that  un- 
cle Joe  and  David  should  remain  to  tea. 
A  merry  time  ensued ;  David  amused 
us  with  the  description  of  an  adven- 
ture that  he  had  experienced  that  morn- 
ing. In  a  hurry  to  start  for  "  Crane- 
neck,"  he  rose,  the  first  in  the  house, 
at  dawn.  Finding  no  tinder  in  the  tin- 
der box  with  which  to  light  the  fire,  he 
fixed  the  kindlings,  and  taking  down 
the  old  ' '  Kings  Arm  "  from  the  brack- 
ets over  the  mantel,  placed  it  across 
the  andirons,  and  pouring  a  little  pow- 
der into  the  pan,  sprang  the  trigger  — 
a  bang,  concussion  that  nearly  sent 
him  heels  over  head,  while  brick  and 
mortar  flew  in  every  direction.  Bump, 
bump,  resounded  from  above,  as  the 
snoozers  sprang  from  their  beds,  while 


86 


REMINISCENCES 


Mr.  &  Mrs.  Colman  rushed  from  their 
bedroom  on  the  ground  floor  en  disha- 
bille. 

"What  is  it,  David?"  shouted  the 
old  gentleman. 

"  My  son,  what  have  you  done?" 
screamed  his  mother,  while  the  remain- 
der of  the  family  rattled  down  stairs, 
querying  "  what  is  the  matter?"  The 
commotion  subsided,  explanation  fol- 
lowed. The  gun  which  David  had 
supposed  empty,  Daniel  had  loaded  the 
previous  evening  in  order  to  fire  a 
Thanksgiving  salute  in  the  morning. 

"Well,  we've  had  the  salute,"  said 
his  father,  "a  deuce  of  a  salute  ;  I  hope 
3'ou'r'  satisfied ;"  and  amid  jokes  and 
laughter  the  brick  and  mortar  was 
cleared.  ,  The  stout,  old  chimney  had 
well  withstood  the  charge,  one  jamb 
was  somewhat  shattered,  but  no  great 
damage  had  been  done  ;  but  Mrs.  Col- 
man concluded  "that  in  future  she 
would  ensure  a  good  stock  of  tinder, 
that  no  similar  sportsman-like  effort 
should  be  made  in  lighting  the  kitchen 
fire." 

The  young  man  was  a  good  mimic, 
and  possessed  considerable  theatrical 
talent,  and  he  related  this  instance  with 
such  inimitable  drollery,  that  the  laugh 
which  I  was  fain  to  indulge  in,  fairl}' 
took  the  twist  from  my  jaw,  and 
thenceforward  iny  recovery  was  rapid. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

The  wealth  and  superior  attractions 
of  Aunt  Adams  brought  her  many 
suitors,  but  for  four  years  her  heart 
remained  constant  to  the  memory  of 
the  early  loved ;  then  it  began  to  be 


whispered  that  she  showed  an  inclina- 
tion to  favor  the  suit  of  Mr.  John 
Coker. 

Robert  Coker,  yeoman,  born  in  1606, 
came  to  Newbury  with  the  first  settlers, 
and  died  May  19th,  1690,  aged  84. 
His  wife,  Catharine,  died  May  2nd, 
1678.  Their  children  were  Joseph, 
Sara,  Benjamin  and  Hannah, 

Joseph  Coker  married  Sara  Hathorne 
April  13,  1665.  Children:  Sara,  who 
died  November  30th,  1667,  Benjamin, 
Sara  and  Hathorne. 

Samuel  Coker,  son  of  Hathorne, 
owned  an  extensive  tract  of  land  at  the 
north  part  of  Newbun-port. 

Mr.  Coker  joined  the  society  of 
"Friends,"  and  his  son,  Thomas,  who 
inherited  the  estate  and  erected  several 
houses  in  that  part  of  the  town,  was  of 
the  same  society.  The  family  burial 
place  was  in  a  lot  on  Washington, 
nearly  opposite  the  head  of  Strong 
street.  Thomas  Coker  married  Sarah 
Greenleaf.  John  was  their  oldest  son. 

The  family  arms  are  : 


ARGENT   ON  A  BEND  GULES,   THREE  LEOP- 
ARD'S  HEADS    OR.      CREST, — A  MOOB'S 
IIKAD,     COUPED     AT    THE      SHOUL- 
DERS,  FL'LL     PACED     PPR, 
•WREATHED      ABOUT 
THE   TEMPLES. 

For  some  3'ears  Mr.  Thomas  Coker 


OF   A 


87 


had  cultivated  a  farm  in  the  lower  par- 
ish, Newbury,  where  he  had  recently 
died  very  suddenly.  John  thus  became 
not;  only  the  staff  of  his  widowed 
mother,  but  the  head  of  a  large  family 
of  young  brothers  and  sisters.  His 
filial  and  fraternal  devotion  won  Mrs. 
Adams's  regard.  Handsome,  intelli- 
gent, highly  respected,  and  a  practical 
farmer,  the  match  appeared  exceeding- 
ly proper,  as  the  young  man  was  every 
way  qualified  for  a  companion  and  pro- 
tector to  the  youthful  widow.  The  en- 
gagement was  at  length  announced, 
but  the  marriage  was  not  solemnized 
until  the  following  October.  The  wed- 
ding was  private,  but  the  couple  were 
the  centre  of  observation,  the  next  Sun- 
day. "Walking  out  bride,"  was  one 
of  the  customs  of  the  time.  Few  finer 
looking  couples  ever  paced  up  the  aisle 
of  the  sacred  edifice  :  the  bridegroom 
with  his  nicety  cued  hair,  and  light 
drab  surtout,  the  bride  habited  in  a 
white,  dimity  flounced  dress,  a  lilac 
satin ;  short  pelisse,  edged  by  rich 
black  lace,  and  a  salmon  colored  plush 
bonnet,  surmounted  by  tossing  white 
plumes. 

Mr.  Coker  took  his  place  most  de- 
corously as  the  head  of  the  household, 
and  he  immediately  instituted  man}' 
improvements  both  within  doors  and 
without,  the  illness  and  death  of  the 
former  proprietor  having  left  the  new 
buildings  and  other  appurtenances  of 
the  farm  in  need  of  care  and  labor  for 
completion. 

I  have  previously  mentioned  that 
amongst  the  apprentices  who  came  to 
the  place  with  Mr.  William  Little  was 
a  youth  by  the  name  of  Lewis  Hatch. 
This  young  man,  left  an  orphan  when 
a  mere  child,  had  purchased  his  free- 
dom when  Mr.  Little  left  his  sister's 


residence,  and  then  a  youth  of  eighteen, 
he  commenced  business  for  himself, 
working  in  the  shop  on  the  place,  and 
boarding  with  Mr.  Adams. 

Politics  at  this  period  waxed  fierce 
and  furious.  John  Coker  was  an  en- 
thusiastic "Jacobin,"  Lewis  Hatch  as 
strong  a  "  Federalist."  Constant  dis- 
putes occurred,  not  pleasant  in  a 
household.  Mr.  Hatch  concluded  to 
locate  elsewhere,  and  much  as  he  was 
respected,  Mrs.  Coker  was  pleased  at 
this  determination. 

Four  miles  from  ' '  Crane-Neck  "  was 
a  crossing  of  roads  called  ' '  New  Row- 
ley Corner  ;"  near  by  resided  Maj.  Paul 
Nelson,  a  smart  man,  carrying  on  con- 
siderable business.  Though  a  bache- 
lor, he  kept  house  on  his  estate,  upon 
which  was  a  large  tannery.  Amongst 
the  appurtenances  of  the  place  was  a 
small  shoe-maker's  shop,  which  Lewis 
Hatch  hired,  and  commenced  the  shoe 
business  on  a  small  scale.  In  a  short 
time  he  was  joined  by  my  uncle  Joe. 
Little,  both  young  men  boarding  in  the 
family  of  Maj.  Nelson.  The  business 
prospering,  my  uncle,  Ben.  Little, 
joined  the  firm,  which  hired  the  whole 
premises  with  the  exception  of  the  tan- 
nery. A  housekeeper  was  procured, 
and  Maj.  Nelson  in  turn  boarded  with 
the  young  bachelors,  who  now  had  also 
several  youths  apprenticed  to  them, 
besides  employing  workmen  outside. 

As  a  matter  of  convenience  and 
profit  uncle  Joe.  Little  conceived  the 
idea  of  setting  up  a  small  grocery  and 
general  furnishing  store.  One  of  the 
front  rooms  of  the  house  was  fitted 
with  shelves  and  other  accommoda- 
tions, and  the  goods  were  purchased. 
This  shop-keeping  immediate!}'  pros- 
pered. The  workmen  were  pleased  at 
being  enabled  to  supply  their  house- 


REMENnSCEXCES 


hold  needs  so  easily,  and  as  there  had 
been  no  store  for  miles  around,  custom 
began  to  flock  to  the  place,  which  even 
then  wore  a  bustling  air  of  prosperity. 

It  would  have  seemed  but  natural, 
as  female  cooperation  was  so  necessary, 
that  one  at  least  of  this  trio  of  bache- 
lors should  seek  a  wife,  and  a  legend 
is  extant,  that  uncle  Joe  did  for  a  time 
entertain  some  such  idea.  Before 
going  to  New  Rowley,  he  had  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  a  young  lady,  the 
teacher  of  the  summer  school  in  our 
district.  The  new  firm  manufactured 
for  merchants  in  Salem  and  Boston, 
and  as  his  grocer}'  business  increased, 
uncle  Joe.  made  weekly  trips  to  those 
cities,  driving  his  team,  which  consist- 
ed of  a  two  wheeled  spring  cart  drawn 
by  one  horse,  (four  wheeled  wagons 
did  not  come  into  use  until  a  few  years 
later) . 

The  father  of  the  young  lady  teacher 
kept  a  tavern  on  the  route ;  thus  my 
uncle  had  ample  opportunity  to  renew 
his  acquaintance  with  the  daughter. 

The  young  man  from  childhood  had 
been  addicted  to  absent  fits  of  intro- 
spection, at  these  times  he  also  had  a 
habit  of  picking  his  nails.  I  have  seen 
him  stand  ten  minutes,  wholly  oblivi- 
ous to  the  outside  world,  nervously 
twitching  his  fingers. 

It  was  reported  that  one  cold  after- 
noon on  his  way  home  from  Boston, 
Mr.  Little  called  on  the  inn  keeper's 
daughter.  Unexpectedly  opening  the 
door  to  the  private  sitting  room  he 
briskly  entered,  but  neither  the  lady 
nor  the  room  bore  the  aspect  of  neat- 
ness to  have  been  expected  at  that 
hour  of  the  day  and  from  one  who  had 
always  seemed  to  pride  herself  upon 
her  elegance.  The  story  ran  that 
though  the  young  man  had  entered 


most  cheerily,  he  suddenly  grew  silent 
and  glum ;  refusing  the  chair  offered, 
he  took  his  stand  back  to  the  fire  and 
fell  into  a  brown  stud}*,  his  eyes  fixed 
on  vacancy,  while  his  nails  were 
picked  most  assiduously.  A  heat  at 
his  ankles  roused  him,  and  he  found 
that  in  his  abstraction  he  had  burned 
the  heels  of  his  boots. 

I  never  heard  that  the  visit  was 
renewed ;  every  matrimonial  inclina- 
tion disappeared ;  Mr.  Little  became 
wholly  immersed  in  his  business,  and 
Miss.  Man-  Hatch,  a  sister  of  Lewis 
Hatch,  took  her  place  as  mistress  of 
the  bachelor  establishment. 

The  New  Rowley  manufacturers 
were  often  hurried  on  orders.  In  the 
winter  season,  when  the  straw  work 
was  suspended,  I  often  bound  both 
boots  and  shoes  for  them  ;  in  an  emer- 
gency 1  was  their  resource. 

One  afternoon  at  the  period  of  which 
I  am  writing,  in  the  earl}*  part  of  the 
week,  uncle  Joe.  appeared  bearing  a 
hundred  pairs  of  seal-skin  boots,  which 
he  said  must  be  corded  and  strapped 
by  Saturday.  At  first  I  declared  they 
could  not  be  done  in  such  a  limited 
time,  but  after  some  demur,  yielding 
to  his  ardent  solicitation,  I  promised 
to  do  my  best,  and  without  the  least 
delay  set  to  work.  It  was  a  dirty  dis- 
agreeable job  ;  only  love  for  my  uncle, 
and  a  desire  to  promote  his  interest 
could  have  induced  its  undertaking. 
As  it  was,  I  stitched  and  stitched 
assiduously  day  after  day,  and  the 
task'  was  accomplished  in  the  given 
time.  The  last  stitch  was  just  taken 
as  uncle  Joe.  entered  the  door.  He 
was  accompanied  by  David  Emery. 
Smut  from  head  to  foot  I  presented  no 
very  attractive  aspect.  The  young 
man  snatched  the  completed  boot  from 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


89 


my  hand,  and  tossing  it  at  uncle  Joe, 
vehemently  protested  against  his  thu 
imposing  on  my  good  nature.  The 
matter  ended  in  a  laugh,  but  thence- 
forward only  the  lighter  sort  of  work 
was  brought  to  me,  and  that  only  upon 
some  sudden  exigence. 

In  a  few  years  the  business  had 
increased  to  such  an  extent  that  to 
better  its  accommodation  a  large  store 
was  erected  exactly  on  "New  Rowley 
Corner,"  which  thei-eafter  bore  the 
designation  of  "Little's  Corner."  A 
house  was  also  built  for  the  con- 
venience of  the  bachelor  family.  In 
a  short  time  uncle  Ben.  Little  put 
up  a  large  dwelling  house  in  the  vicin- 
it}',  and  some  indications  of  a  match 
between  himself  and  Miss  Hatch  were 
thought  to  be  tangible.  At  this  junc- 
ture Mr.  Lewis  Hatch  was  suddenly 
prostrated  with  typhoid  fever.  After 
a  short  illness  he  died  ere  he  had 
reached  his  thirtieth  birth-da}*.  His 
was  a  short  but  active  life,  and  his 
death  caused  a  sad  void  amidst  his 
limited  but  choice  circle  of  friends,  by 
whom  his  memory  has  been  cherished 
with  affectionate  respect. 

Miss  Hatch,  a  delicate  person,  was 
overwhelmed  by  the  death  of  her 
brother,  and  being  a  victim  to  disease, 
and  though  living  to  an  advanced  age, 
she  ever  after  remained  an  invalid. 

Business  at  ' '  Little's  Corner  "  rapid- 
ly  increased,  other  buildings  were 
erected,  a  village  sprung  up,  and  the 
nucleus  for  the  now  flourishing  town 
of  Georgetown  was  formed.  Uncle 
Ben.  and  uncle  Joe.  have  passed  away, 
but  their  mantle  has  worthily  descended 
.to  their  nephews,  Samuel  Little  and 
John  Coker. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Amidst  my  first  reccollections  of  the 
"  Port,"  loom  up  drear  and  dread  the 
jail,  the  whipping  post  was  opposite, 
and   the  stocks  on  Water  street  just 
below  Market  square,   and  the  work- 
house  on  Federal   street.       Newbur}^ 
had  no  poor-house,  its  paupers  were 
let  out  in  families.     In  this  way  most 
reliable  servants  for  lighter  work  were 
often  obtained.     An  old  revolutionary 
soldier  by  the   name   of  Mitchell   re- 
sided  in   the   family   of    Mr.     Moses 
Colman  for  years.     This   veteran  was 
held  in  high  estimation  by  the  three 
boys,  to  whom  he  became  an  unques- 
tionable authority  in  field  sports,   the 
training  of  horses  and  dogs,  and  other 
masculine    accomplishments,     besides 
being  a  perfect  encyclopedia  of  know- 
ledge in  various  departments  of  natural 
history,   with  a  never  failing  stock  of 
humorous  anecdotes  and  tales,  mingled 
with  the  sterner  recital  of  privation, 
cold  and  hunger,  battle  and  siege,  with 
all  the  details,  the  light  and  the  shade, 
the  pomp,  pageantry,  glory  and  gore 
of  the   time   that  tried    men's   souls. 
Later,  a  woman,  always  termed  "  Old 
Mar}*,"     came     into     the     household 
whom  both  children  and  grandchildren 
regarded  as  a  sort  of  foster   mother, 
and  whose  memory   is  still   affection- 
ately cherished. 

In  my  more  youthful  da}*s  the  roads 
were  infested  by  tramps.  Ugly  look- 
ing men  and  women,  begging  their  way 
from  one  place  to  another.  The  meet- 
ing of  such  people  on  my  way  to  and 
from  school  was  one  of  the  terrors  of 
my  childhood.  There  was  an  old  unoc- 
supied  house  on  the  road,  and  I  never 
passed  it  alone  without  accelerated 
pace  and  a  quaking  heart.  Then, 
12 


90 


REMINISCENCES 


though  the  days  of  Salem  witehcraft 
were  ended  and  old  women  were  no 
longer  hung  as  witches,  in  every  com- 
munity there  was  one  or  more  believed 
to  possess  the  "  evil  eye,"  and  in  every 
house  could  be  seen  horse  shoes  above 
the  doors,  and  other  charms  against 
their  machinations.  I  vividly  recall  the 
mixture  of  awe  and  terror,  with  wh'ch 
I  was  wont  to  regard  the  large,  quaint, 
red  house  on  the  lower  corner  of  Market 
and  High  streets,  famous  in  the  annals 
of  witchcraft.  Here  resided  Goodwife 
Elizabeth  Morse,  who  in  1680,  "she 
not  having  the  fear  of  God  before  her 
eyes,  being  instigated  b}-  the  Divil,  and 
had  familiarity  with  the  Divil  contrary 
to  the  peace  of  our  sovereign  lord  the 
king,  his  crown  and  dignity,  the  laws 
of  God,  and  of  this  jurisdiction,"  was 
tried  in  Boston  and  sentenced  to  be 
hanged.  Through  the  firmness  of  Gov. 
Bradstreet  this  sentence  was  commuted, 
and  though  Mrs.  Morse  lived  an  exem- 
plary, Christian  life  in  her  own  house 
for  many  years,  the  stigma  attached  to 
her  character  had  been  transmitted 
through  the  succeeding  generations. 
Tales  of  the  "Goody,"  and  the  won- 
derful performances  that  had  taken 
place  at  the  "  Morse  House"  were  fa- 
miliar legends,  which,  detailed  of  a  win- 
ter's night,  by  a  low  burning  candle, 
and  smouldering  fire,  the  blast  shriek- 
ing round  the  large  house  and  howling 
down  the  wide  chimney,  while  the  shad- 
ows deepened  in  the  spacious  room, 
and  the  tall  clock  in  the  corner  ticked 
a  solemn  accompaniment  to  the  low, 
tragic  tones  of  the  speaker,  had  often 
wrought  an  effect  upon  my  imagination 
which  time  has  failed  to  efface. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  to  have 
ascertained  how  or  why  the  females 
thus  marked,  had  received  the  unenvia- 


ble notoriety  of  witches.  Generally 
they  were  persons  of  the  lower  class, 
some  might  have  lost  caste  b}-  youthful 
indiscretion,  or  by  a  somewhat  dubious 
means  of  obtaining  a  present  livelihood, 
but  usually  they  were  hard-working, 
inoffensive  women,  possessing  a 
marked  individuality,  strong  intellect- 
ual faculties,  quick  perception  and  keen 
wit,  united  to  a  firm  will  and  independ- 
ence of  action,  characteristics  which, 
in  some  way,  had  brought  upon  them 
the  ban  of  the  community.  The  witch 
of  the  "  Falls  Parish,"  was  an  old 
woman  called  "Tuggie  Xoyes  ;"  her  real 
Christian  name  was  Margaret.  I  nev- 
er heard  how  she  obtained  the  nickname 
of  Tuggie.  I  have  only  a  faint  remem- 
brance of  her,  a  dim  recollection ,  of 
stealing  behind  my  mother  to  peep  at 
the  witch,  as  she  bargained  for  some 
tobacco  which  my  father  had  raised.  I 
think  this  woman  gained  a  livelihood 
by  spinning  and  weaving,  and  she  was 
frequently  employed  by  Mrs.  Moses 
Colman.  I  have  often  heard  David 
Emery  relate  an  incident  of  his  boy- 
hood by  which  his  disbelief  in  witches 
was  fulh*  confirmed. 

One  cold  winter  morning,  David  and 
his  chum  Xate  Perlc}-  were  on  their  way 
to  the  old  school-house  at  the  corners, 
when  they  descried  Tuggie  advancing 
over  the  half-trodden  path,  the  hood  of 
her  gray  lambskin  cloak  drawn  around 
her  face,  and  a  bunch  of  woolen  yarn 
in  her  hand. 

"  There's  the  witch,"  Xate  exclaimed, 
lamenting  the  lack  of  a  sixpence  to 
place  in  the  path  to  "stop  her  farther 
progress. 

His  companion  expressed  his  credul- 
ity respecting  such  an  effect,  but  never- 
theless drew  a  sixpence  from  his  pock- 
et, which  he  adroitly  dropped  immedi- 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


91 


ately  before  the  old  woman  ;  she  passed 
on  directly  over  it  with  a  curtsy  and 
good  day,  and  David  again  pocketed 
his  coin,  firm  in  the  faith  of  Tuggie's 
innocence  of  any  diabolical  influence, 
with  a  full  determination,  never  to  be- 
lieve in  any  witch,  save  the  witch  of 
Endor. 

When  I  was  six  or  seven  years  old, 
a  young  man  in  the  neighborhood  be- 
came insane.  For  a  time  he  was  a 
complete  maniac,  necessitating  confine- 
ment, and  a  watchful  attendance.  Dis- 
ease of  the  brain  was  not  generally  un- 
derstood ;  if  one  became  a  victim  of  ab- 
erration of  intellect,  it  was  universally 
declared  that  they  were  bewitched,  and 
the  various  charms,  most  supremely 
ridiculous,  then  in  vogue,  were  imme- 
diately exercised  to  dispel  the  foul 
fiend.  Young  Edward  Hills,  having 
as  it  was  declared  fallen  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  "  evil  eye,"  great  were 
the  efforts  to  discover  the  author  of  the 
spell  b}r  which  he  was  bound.  Suspic- 
ion pointed  to  two  or  three  old  women 
in  that  and  the  next  parish,  over 
whom  a  secret  but  strict  surveilliance 
was  instituted,  while  every  test  known 
in  the  annals  of  witch  lore  was  put  in 
requisition  for  the  relief  of  the  sup- 
posed bewitched  youth. 

The  person  held  in  the  greatest  dis- 
trust was  a  worthy  hard  working 
woman,  residing  a  short  distance  from 
Mr.  Hill's.  AVhy  or  how  she  should 
have  attained  to  the  dubious  honor  of 
being  considered  an  equestrienne  of 
the  broomstick  I  never  could  conceive, 
unless  it  was  from  a  shrewd,  far- 
sighted  intellect,  and  a  fearless  and 
forcible  expression  of  her  convictions, 
a  keen  wit,  and  a  somewhat  sharp 
tongue,  that  usually,  to  use  a  familiar 
phrase,  "  hit  the  nail  on  the  head." 


Aunt  Euth  Little  believed  in  witches 
as  religiously  as  she  did  in  her  bible  — 
the  least  doubt  was  considered  rank 
heresy.  The  supposed  witch  was  em- 
ployed by  the  families  in  the  vicinity 
both  •  in  spinning  and  weaving,  and 
upon  learning  Edward  Hill's  situation 
Mrs.  Little  commenced  a  strict  scrutiny 
over  her  neighbor.  One  evening  that 
spring  a  young  heifer  unused  to  the 
process  of  milking  became  a  little  frac- 
tious and  kicked  over  the  milk  pail. 
Aunt  Ruth  instantly  declared  her  be- 
witched, and  rushing  to  the  barn  armed 
with  her  sharp  shears,  she  clipt  a  few 
hairs  from  the  animal's  tail,  which  were 
flung  upon  the  fire.  A  fortnight  after 
the  supposed  witch  came  in  with  her 
hand  bandaged,  she  had  burned  it  a 
few  nights  previous  with  the  warming- 
pan.  The  expression  of  horror  that 
.stole  over  aunt  Euth's  face  at  this 
announcement  would  have  established 
the  reputation  of  a  tragic  actress. 
"  Sartinly  she  had  had  her  suspicions, 
but  r'aly  they  had  never  amounted  to 
conviction  till  then  ;  to  think  that  by 
burning  the  hair  from  the  heifer's  tail 
the  hussy  should  get  her  hand  scorched 
by  the  warming-pan  !  " 

In  vain  both  her  husband,  the  hired 
man  and  David  Emery,  all  declared 
that  the  incident  respecting  the  heifer 
took  place  more  than  a  week  prior  to 
the  accident  by  the  warming-pan,  aunt 
Ruth  was  not  to  be  silenced.  "She 
knew  black  from  white,  and  when  her 
convictions  were  settled  they  were  set- 
tled." 

After  a  time  Mr.  Hill  became  per- 
fectly sane.  By  trade  a  joiner,  he 
married  and  settled  on  the .  family 
homestead ;  years  after,  a  few  years 
prior  to  my  marriage,  he  was  again  at- 
tacked by  insanity.  For  a  time  he 


92 


KEMEMSCENCES 


was  extremely  violent,  so  much  so 
that  he  was  chained  to  the  floor  of  the 
parlor,  which  had  been  denuded  of 
the  furniture  and  the  windows  boarded 
to  the  upper  panes.  Though  this  sys- 
tem was  rather  calculated  to  enhance 
than  repel  the  malady,  after  a  time 
the  disease  assumed  a  milder  type, 
and  the  maniac  again  took  his  place  in 
the  household,  but  to  the  end  of  a  long 
life,  his  brain  continued  clouded.  For 
months  he  would  remain  indoors,  quiet 
and  silent,  then  suddenly  become  the 
impersonation  of  activity,  brimming 
over  with  a  crazed  wit,  that  was  as 
humorous  as  it  usually  was  harmless. 
At  this  second  period  of  insanity, 
the  world  had  sufficiently  advanced  in 
knowledge  to  place  the  affliction  in  the 
appropriate  category;  only  a  few,  like 
aunt  Ruth,  still  adhered  to  the  witch 
doctrine,  but  the  old  ideas  were  held 
with  such  tenacity  that  Parson  Woods 
was  called  to  exorcise  the  foul  fiend, 
and  one  watcher  was  nearly  frightened 
out  of  his  wits  at  the  familj-  cat,  sup- 
posing her  to  be  some  witch's  familiar. 
As  the  spring  advanced,  the  young 
men  in  the  vicinity  volunteered  to  do 
the  ploughing  and  planting  for  Mr. 
Hill.  I  often  went  to  the  Byfield  factory 
on  business,  and  Mrs.  Hill  told  my 
brother  James  that  she  'was  desirous 
that  I  should  execute  a  commission  for 
her  the  next  tune  I  rode  thither.  Ac- 
cordingly, one  pleasant  evening,  I  went 
in  to  receive  her  orders.  Mrs.  Hill 
was  milking,  the  children  were  with  her. 
Mr.  Hill  sat  before  a  light  fire  which 
was  smouldering  in  the  kitchen  fire- 
place. Seeing  that  he  was  alone,  I 
hesitated  on  the  threshold  ;  looking  up, 
the  lunatic  with  a  pleased  expression 
bade  me  enter  and  be  seated.  "His 
old  woman  would  be  in  directly." 


Squinting  up  one  eye,  with  a  wise 
shake  of  the  head,  he  added,  "  I  know 
what  she  wants  of  you,  Sallie.  She 
thinks,  wonderful  woman,  that  it  is  a 
profound  secret,  but  she  has  sent  for 
you  to  bu}r  the  cloth  at  the  factory  for 
me  a  pair  of  breeches,  and  she  has  the 
money  laid  by  to  pay  for  it.  Draw  up 
your  chair,  Sallie,  }'ou  are  not  afraid  of 
me.  I  sha'n't  scare  you  as  I  did  that 
New  Hampshire  chap  that  boarded  at 
Deacon  Tenney's  last  winter.  I  saw 
he  was  scared  the  moment  he  came  in, 
and  I  determined  to  have  a  bit  of  fun. 
Didn't  I  kick  up  a  ringtum  ?  The  big 
lout  was  e'en  jest  frightened  out  of  his 
senses  ;  he  daresn't  stay  in  the  room, 
but  every  two  minutes  he  would  open 
the  door  a  crack,  and  squeak  out,  'won't 
you  have  a  leetle  caffee,Mr.  Hill — won't 
you  have  a  leetle  caflee  ? '  I  got  so  out 
of  patience,  I  told  him  to  hold  his  in- 
fernal tongue  or  1  would  '  caffee '  him 
with  a  vengeance  !  I  silenced  him,  but 
the  darned  fool  took  our  old  Suke  for 
a  witch,  declared  a  strange  cat  flew  in- 
to my  room  through  the  ke}'  hole,  when 
it  was  only  our  old  cat  who  pushed  in 
beside  him,  while  he  was  holding  the 
door  and  bawling  'caflee.'  They  say 
I  was  bewitched,  Sallie.  It  was  sport 
to  make  folks  think  so.  Wasn't  it  fun 
to  make  folks'  eyes  stick  out  ?  Aunt 
Ruth  thought  she  knew.  Oh  3-03,  she 
is  the  elect  lady  !  She  knows  ;  so  the}' 
sent  for  Parson  Woods.  I  told  him 
he  had  such  an  acquaintance  with  his 
Satanic  Majest}',  his  services  would 
have  been  especially  efficacious  if  need- 
ed, but  I  scarcely  thought  he  would 
find  any  divil  to  exorcise.  If  he  could 
he  was  at  libert}-  to  pitch  him  into  my 
pig-sty."  Giving  me  another  of  his 
peculiarly  knowing  squints,  he  contin- 
ued, "  Between  3-011  and  I,  I  think  the 


OF   A 


93 


Lord  was  rather  hard  upon  that  Gada- 
rene.  He  must  have  taken  him  out  of 
a  good  round  sum.  I  have  been  calcu- 
lating," he  added,  pointing  to  some 
chalk  marks  by  the  fire-place,  "  but  as 
the  account  only  states  the  number, 
and  not  the  value  per  head,  I  am  una- 
ble to  ascertain  the  loss.  The  fact  was, 
Sallie,  the  Parson  came  too  late,  [and 
so  I  informed  him.  I  told  him  the 
witches  were  dead.  I  saw  them  one 
moonlight  night  piping  and  dancing  up 
"  Crane-neck  road."  Old  women  on 
broomsticks,  and  young  gals  kicking 
up  their  heels,  old  Nick  ahead  leading 
the  way.  Fust  they  stopped  at  yer 
uncle  Enoch  Little's,  but  he  swore  so 
fast,  the  Divil  gin  in,  and  the  gang 
trooped  into  uncle  John's.  Mr.  Little 
was  sitting  afore  the  fire  toasting  fust 
the  palms  then  the  backs  of  his  hands. 
He  looked  'round,  held  out  one  hand, 
then  the  other,  and  said,  '  yes,  yes — 
yes,  yes,'  so  old  Nick  struck  up  again, 
and  on  they  squirled  to  your  house. 
Mr.  Sam.  Smith  was  down  from  Ver- 
mont, singing  Methody  hymns  so  loud 
they  turned  over  to  uncle  Thurrel's. 

The  old  man  driving  up  old  '  White' 
in  the  cider  mill,  too  much  hurried  to 
salute  his  fust  cousin,  he  hollered, 
'  Terap,  Terap,'  so  lustily,  the  whole 
batch  scampered  off  hilter  skilter  down 
'South  End,'  across  'Crane  meadow,' 
and  before  they  could  fetch  up,  they 
rushed  headlong  into  '  Crane  pond,' 
and  that  was  the  end  of  the  witches." 

With  this  announcement  Mr.  Hill 
gravely  surve}"ed  the  opposite  wall  in 
silence,  and  I  indulged  in  the  merri- 
ment his  apt  description  of  the  pecul- 
iar traits  ot  the  individuals  visited  by 
the  witches  had  exacted.  Suddenly 
my  companion  started  from  his  reverie, 
and  exclaiming  that  his  boot  hurt  him, 


drew  it  from  his  right  foot ;  having  al- 
so removed  his  stockings,  part  of  an- 
other stocking  foot  was  disclosed  ;  tak- 
ing this  off,  he  held  up  his  foot,  the 
toes  covered  by  the  thumb  and  fingers  of 
buckskin  glove,  and  asked,  "if  I 
should  think  that  would  feel  com- 
fortable?" 

Answering  in  the  negative,  I  in- 
quired why  he  had  thus  bundled  up  his 
toes?  Vouchsafing  no  reply,  he  slow- 
ly and  sedately  drew  off  first  the  thumb 
and  next  the  fingers,  flinging  them 
into  the  fire  with  a  muttered  invocation 
as  each  fell  upon  the  coals,  and  as  the 
last  curled  upon  the  embers,  he  quickly 
turned,  and  with  a  most  quizzical  look 
said  ;  ' '  David  would  get  credit  in  a 
steeple  chase,  'tisn't  every  one  that 
could  leap  the  wall  as  he  did  last  win- 
ter, but  he  broke  his  shaft." 

I  made  no  answer,  and  pretended 
not  to  understand. 

"You  needn't  make  believe  you 
don't  comprehend  what  I  mean.  You 
know  last  winter  when  Tea  street  was 
blocked  up  and  the  path  led  through 
my  field,  David  Emery  mistook  and 
took  a  flying  leap  over  the  wall  above 
the  house  instead  of  going  below 
through  the  bars.  He  thought  no  one 
knew  it.  If  the  windows  were  boarded 
up  I  heard  him.  He  broke  his  shaft  I 
know.  I  wanted  to  go  out  to  help 
him,  but  they  said  no  one  was  there. 
I  was  bewitched.  There  was  a  line  in 
the  sleigh  box  to  tie  up  the  shaft. 
David  tied  it  together ;  then  I  heard 
the  bells  as  he  drove  up  the  hill. 
David  says  old  Mitchell  has  taught  him 
to  always  go  armed  and  equipped. 
That  is  a  grand  horse,  and  David  is  a 
good  horseman  ;  not  one  in  a  thousand 
could  have  cleared  that  wall  as  he  did. 
Oh,  David's  a  trump  !  But  3-011  do  not 


94 


REMINISCENCES 


know  of  whom  I  am  speaking !  You 
know  nothing  of  the  gentleman  nor  his 
proceedings !"  and  with  a  prolonged 
laugh  and  most  emphatic  grimaces  the 
lunatic  pulled  on  his  stocking  and  boot. 
Mrs.  Hill  caine  in  as  she  gave  me  her 
commission.  I  repeated  what  her  hus- 
band had  told  me.  She  expressed 
great  surprise,  and  said  he  must  have 
guessed  her  intentions, as  she  had  never 
mentioned  them.  His  intuition  and 
cunning  were  remarkable ;  she  some- 
times thought  that  she  must  join  with 
aunt  Ruth  and  pronounce  him  be- 
witched. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

That  spring  David  Emery  made  his 
first  and  last  sea  voyage.  Though 
this  short  trip  comprised  the  whole  of 
his  sea  faring  life,  it  brought  that 
which  many  a  veteran  sailor  who  has 
circumnavigated  the  globe  has  failed 
to  experience  —  the  horrors  of  a  ship- 
wreck. 

Business  suddenly  summoned  the 
young  man  to  Eastport,  District  of 
Maine.  He  expected  to  be  absent  a 
month.  In  about  three  weeks  I 
received  a  letter.'  It  had  been  long  on 
the  road,  as  in  those  unsettled  regions 
the  mail  was  chiefly  transported  in  sad- 
dle bags  by  a  carrier  on  horseback. 
David  wrote  that  we  might  expect  him 
by  the  middle  of  June.  Friday,  the 
sixteenth  of  June,  dawned  overcast 
and  sultry ;  scarcely  a  leaf  stirred 
through  the  da}*,  and  the  night  came 
on  murkj-  and  oppressive.  About  mid- 
night I  was  awakened  by  the  wind,  a 
gust  struck  with  great  force  against  the 
long,  sloping,  back  roof.  There  was  a 


furious  squall  for  a  few  moments ; 
while  the  rain  came  in  a  torrent,  the 
wind  slightly  abated,  but  a  severe 
north-east  storm  set  in,  which  con- 
tinued until  noon  Saturday. 

As  we  knew  David  must  be  near  the 
coast,  great  anxiety  was  felt  respect- 
ing him.  Sundaj-  passed  without 
tidings,  but  Monda}-  morning  my 
brother  Joseph  learned  at  the  grist 
mill  in  By  field,  that  he  had  been  cast 
away  on  Plum  Island,  and  that  his 
brother,  Jeremiah  Colman,  brought  him 
to  his  father's  on  Sunda}*.  Mr.  Perley, 
from  whom  the  news  was  obtained, 
reported  that  no  injury  had  been 
received  to  life  or  limb,  "but  he  did 
wish  we  could  have  seen  the  figure 
David  cut ;  his  clothes,  especially  his 
hat,  all  filled  with  lint  from  the  sails, 
was  a  sight  to  behold." 

In  the  afternoon  the  young  man 
drove  over,  looking  none  the  worse  for 
his  disaster.  After  father  had  drawn 
a  mug  of  his  best  cider,  the  traveller 
gave  us  a  description  of  his  adventures. 
Though  the  schooner  in  which  he  was 
forced  to  take  passage  was  old  and 
dirt}',  the  trip  to  Eastport  was  both 
quick  and  pleasant  ;  his  speculation 
succeeded,  and  he  was  most  hospitably 
entertained  by  most  agreeable  people. 
Business  called  him  to  a  ne.v  settle- 
ment up  the  St.  Croix  river.  The  only 
means  of  transportation  was  by  a  birch 
bark  canoe,  paddled  b}*  an  Indian. 
The  red-skin  belonged  to  a  tribe  living 
above  Eastport ;  he  haJ.  come  to  the 
town  to  procure  the  wherewithal  to  cel- 
ebrate the  nuptials  of  a  daughter  ;  an 
addition  to  his  purse  was  acceptable, 
and  he  readily  agreed  to  take  the 
3'oung  man  up  the  river  that  day  and 
down  the  next. 

His    directions    as    he    seated    his 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN'. 


95 


passenger  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe 
were  most  strict  and  emphatic.  "  Sit 
straight,  keep  arms  so,  keep  quiet, 
canoe  go  over  just  like  dat,"  he  said, 
snapping  his  fingers.  "Me  drown  one 
white  man,  me  never  get  no  more  white 
man  to  paddle." 

Knowing  the  nature  of  the  frail  bark 
Mr.  Emery  comforted  himself  with 
such  discretion  as  to  win  the  en- 
comiums of  his  companion,  eliciting 
grunts  of  approbation. 

The  da}*  wore  on.  Hour  after  hour 
they  glided  up  the  broad,  beautiful 
stream,  bordered  by  the  primeval 
forest.  The  grave,  taciturn  Indian 
bending  to  his  task,  the  silence  of  the 
still  June  day  unbroken,  save  by  the 
dip  of  the  paddle,  the  note  of  a  bird, 
or  the  far  away  cry  of  some  wild 
animal  in  the  distance. 

Hungry  and  thirsty,  weary  from  the 
cramped  position,  near  sunset  the 
3'oung  man  joyfully  descried  a  clearing 
upon  the  bank,  a  little  wharf  project- 
ing into  the  river,  and  a  clump  of 
buildings  in  the  back  ground. 

Upon  landing  Mr.  Emery  learned 
that  the  gentleman  he  had  come  hither 
to  seek  was  in  Boston.  A  representa- 
tive from  the  "  District  of  Maine,"  he 
had  gone  thither  to  attend  the  General 
Court,  which  at  that  time  commenced 
its  sittings  at  "Election,*  which  was 
on  the  last  Wednesday  in  May.  Though 
the  mistress  of  the  mansion  expressed 
regret  that  her  husband  could  not 
have  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  the 
guest,  he  received  the  assurance  that 
she  possessed  full  power  to  facilitate  the 
errand  which  had  brought  him  there. 
Upon  Mr.  Emery's  expressing  his  fears 
that  his  boatman  might  be  an  annoy- 
ance, she  bade  hind  "  have  no  concern, 
as  she  often  entertained  the  Indians  of 


the  vicinity ;  had  a  back  room  and 
blankets  for  their  especial  accommoda- 
tion." 

The  row  back  to  Eastport  was  made 
in  safety.  The  Indian  had  taken  a 
fancy  to  his  passenger,  and  invited  him 
to  his  daughter's  wedding ;  press  of 
business  prevented  the  acceptance  of 
this  invitation,  though  it  would  have 
given  the  young  man  pleasure  to  have 
been  present  at  such  a  novel  enter- 
tainment. The  Indian  having  made 
his  purchases,  a  barrel  of  flour,  one 
cwt.  of  pork,  a  keg  of  molasses,  and 
two  gallons  of  .rum,  took  leave;  hav- 
ing been  presented  with  a  few  trinkets 
for  the  bride,  the  gratified  redskin  un- 
der the  influence  of  gratitude  and  us- 
quebaugh, affectionately  hugged  his 
"white  brother,"  and  with  grunts  of 
satisfaction  seated  himself  amidst  his 
possessions  and  slowly  paddled  home- 
ward. 

Upon  introduction  to  a  young  French 
priest,  the  cure  of  a  Catholic  mission 
up  the  river,  Mr.  Emery  received  an 
invitation  to  visit  the  station,  which  he 
did  the  next  Sunday  in  companj-  with 
a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The 
church  and  mission  house  which  stood 
in  the  midst  of  the  Indian  village,  were 
heavy  structures  of  rough  stone,  the 
surrounding  huts  were  of  slabs  and 
boards,  with  garden  patches  showing 
rude  attempt  at  cultivation.  The 
church  was  well  filled,  many  of  the 
worshippers  having  come  a  long  dis- 
tance through  the  forest.  Several  of 
the  women  had  pappooses  strapped  on 
their  shoulders  in  blankets.  The  men 
were  tall  and  athletic,  the  elder  women 
somewhat  homely,  but  the  younger 
ones  rather  good  looking,  some  of  the 
girls  were  decidedly  pretty.  Most  of 
the  women  were  gay  with  gew-gaws 


96 


REMINISCENCES 


and  feathers,  their  shapely  feet  showing 
to  great  advantage  in  their  elaborately 
ornamented  deerskin  moccasins.  His 
companion  of  the  canoe  was  the  first 
to  greet  Mr.  Emery.  His  delight  at 
again  seeing  his  "white  brother"  was 
warmly  expressed,  and  he  hastened  to 
fetch  the  bride  and  bridegroom  and  the 
other  members  of  his  family.  The 
young  cure  was  evidently  beloved  and 
respected,  his  flock  were  quiet  and  de- 
vout through  the  service.  The  party 
were  hospitably  entertained  by  the 
priest,  who  in  the  afternoon,  in  defer- 
ence to  his  guests,  preached  a  fine  ser- 
mon in  English — that  in  the  morning 
had  been  delivered  in  French.  This 
was  Mr.  Emery's  introduction  to  that 
church  which  he  had  been  taught  to 
shun  and  abhor,  but  it  gave  a  pleasing 
impression  which  ever  after  remained. 
The  second  week  in  June  the  Lucy 
Ann  set  sail  for  Newburyport.  The 
crew  consisted  of  the  skipper  and 
three  men ;  there  were  two  passengers 
beside  Mr.  Emery,  a  Mr.  Little,  an 
Irishman  by  birth,  and  at  that  time  do- 
ing business  in  Boston,  and  a  3roung 
man,  belonging  in  Newburyport,  by  the 
name  of  Richardson.  Off  Boon  Island 
the  schooner  was  becalmed  for  several 
days  and  the  passengers  took  the  op- 
portunit}'  to  visit  a  farm-house  there. 
The  sixteenth  the  night  closed  in  dark 
and  foggy.  Mr.  Emery  was  awakened 
by  the  squall.  Amid  a  terrible  pitch- 
ing, snapping,  creaking  and  flapping, 
the  passengers  made  their  way  on  deck. 
The  rain  poured  like  a  flood,  it  was 
difficult  to  sustain  a  foothold,  'ever}-- 
thing  was  flying  in  every  direction. 
The  deck  load  of  wood  and  bark  was 
pitching  hither  and  thither,  pieces  of 
bark  being  hurled  mast  high.  The 
squall  subsided,  but  the  storm  came  on 


fierce  and  terrific.  The  skipper  thought 
he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  Portsmouth, 
and  every  effort  was  made  to  clear  the 
coast.  Heavier  grew  the  sea,  stronger 
the  blast.  Sea  after  sea  swept  the 
deck,  the  roaring  billows  dashing  to 
the  mast  head,  raged  around  the  frail 
craft,  phosphorescent  crested,  one  sheet 
of  fitime.  At  length,  to  eveiyone's  re- 
lief, the  day  dawned,  but  still  the  mist 
and  spray  shut  in  the  sight.  Suddenly 
came  the  cry,  "  a  sail  ahead  ;  "  the  fog 
at  that  moment  slightly  cleared,  and  in 
affrighted  tones,  the  captain  ejaculated, 
' '  My  God  !  It  is  Newburyport  lights." 

He  was  an  Eastern  man,  unacquaint- 
ed with  the  coast ;  turning  to  his  pas- 
senger, he  demanded,  "  Emer}T,  what 
ami  to  do?" 

The  young  man  remembering  Hamp- 
ton rocks,  replied,  "  Keep  her  off,  run 
to  the  leeward,  clear  the  bar  if  possi- 
ble." 

The  captain  "inquired  if  he  could 
make  Cape  Ann  harbor."  Mr.  Emery 
thought  not,  and  shortly  a  tremendous 
sea  which  carried  away  the  main  boom 
settled  the  question.  The  weather  had 
begun  to  clear,  Mr.  Emeiy  could  dis- 
cern that  they  were  nearly  abreast  of 
the  Plum  Island  hotel,  and  he  advised 
beaching  the  craft  immediately.  The 
helm  was  turned,  she  swung  slowly 
'round  and  headed  for  the  shore.  Those 
acquainted  with  the  coast  in  a  teriffic 
northeaster  will  appreciate  the  situa- 
tion.. On  she  went,  thrown  forward  by 
the  waves.  A  tremendous  bump,  then 
she  swung  back,  but  the  next  sea  took 
her  and  with  a  second  bump  and  bang, 
which  carried  the  foremast  and  main- 
mast by  the  board,  the  Lucy  Ann  set- 
tled into  the  sand,  her  aqueous  career 
forever  ended. 

The  storm  abated,  towards  noon  the 


OF 


97 


rain  ceased,  and  preparations  were 
made  to  get  a  line  on  shore.  Mr. 
Clifford,  the  landlord  of  the  hotel,  had 
espied  the  schooner,  and  with  his  boy 
was  on  the  beach  ready  to  render 
assistance,  but  who  was  the  one  to 
breast  that  thunderous  surf?  The  lot 
fell  upon  a  stalwart  sailor  who  had 
been  caught  stealing  from  the  passen- 
gers. Stripped  to  his  shirt  arid 
drawers,  a  rope  secured  around  his 
waist,  the  stout  fellow  plunged  into  the 
swirl  of  waters,  and,  after  a  strenuous 
struggle,  almost  exhausted,  he  at 
length  reached  the  land.  The  others 
prepared  to  follow.  There  was  valu- 
able propert}T  in  the  cabin ;  Mr.  Little 
had  several  thousand  dollars  on  board, 
the  other  passengers  a  considerable 
sum,  all  in  specie.  It  was  thought 
that  the  hull  would  hold  together.  Mr. 
Emery  went  below  to  cord  his  trunk 
more  securely,  there  he  found  young 
Richardson  tying  up  a  hundred  silver 
dollars  in  a  bandanna  pocket-handker- 
chief. Mr-  Emery  vainly  tried  to  per- 
suade the  foolish  fellow  to  return  the 
money  to  his  box,  but  he  persisted  in 
taking  it  on  deck,  where  the  first  wave 
burst  the  frail  envelope  and  a  hundred 
silver  dollars  were  added  to  the  treas- 
ures of  the  deep. 

Mr.  Little,  not  a  swimmer,  was  fear- 
ful that  he  could  not  reach  the  shore  by 
the  line,  but  being  duly  encouraged  a 
successful  attempt  was  made,  and  the 
whole  five  reached  terra  finna  without 
accident. 

Refreshed  and  dried,  as  the  weather 
had  cleared  and  the  tide  turned,  with 
the  aid  of  Mr.  Clifford's  horse  and  cart 
the  articles  were  taken  from  the 
schooner  and  brought  safely  to  the 
hotel.  Nothing  was  lost  but  Richard- 
son's silver.  Mr.  Clifford  took  the 


skipper  to  town.  Mr.  Little  was  so 
anxious  that  Mr.  Emery  should  remain 
with  him  over  night  that  the  young 
man  somewhat  reluctantly  consented. 
The  merchant  had  made  arrangements 
to  go  into  business  in  Eastport,  and  he 
was  solicitous  to  remove  all  traces  of 
the  disaster  from  his  clothes  and 
papers,  in  order  that  his  wife  should 
know  nothing  of  it,  as,  if  she  did,  he 
feared  he  never  would  be  able  to  re- 
move her  from  Boston. 

During  David's  absence,  his  brother, 
Jeremiah  Colman,  had  been  married  to 
Miss  Mary  Chute,  daughter  of  Deacon 
James  Chute  of  Byfield.  Mr.  Colman 
had  been  established  in  the  butchering 
business  in  Newbur}Tport  for  some 
time,  and  the  young  couple  had  set  up 
housekeeping  in  half  of  the  Pearson 
house  on  Charter  street.  Learning 
what  had  befallen  David,  Jerry  drove 
to  the  Island  and  insisted  on  taking 

O 

him  to  his  house,  where  Mrs.  Colman 
received  him  with  sisterly  affection, 
and  every  effort  was  made  for  his  re- 
freshment and  comfort. 

The  hulk  after  lying  some  time  in 
the  sand  was  eventually  broken  up. 
The  vessel  had  been  insured  at  New- 
buryport,  and  at  first  some  had  de- 
murred respecting  paying  the  insur- 
ance, but  upon  farther  investigation  it 
was  promptly  handed  over. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

I  have  stated  that  Mr.  Benjamin 
Colman  purchased  ' '  Slade's  meeting- 
house," and  having  moved  it  near  his 
residence,  which  was  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Byfield  parsonage,  fitted  the  build- 
13 


98 


REMESTSCEXCES 


ing  for  a  seminar}-.  The  prospectus 
of  the  Female  Academy,  Byfield,  pub- 
lished in  the  "  Newburyport  Herald," 
enumerates  "Grammar,  Arithmetic, 
Geography,  Rhetoric,  Composition, 
Painting  and  needle-work,''  as  the 
branches  taught.  It  adds  :  "  It  is  ex- 
pected that  a  gentleman  of  Christian 
education  will,  general!}',  every  day 
visit  the  Seminary,  and  if  occasion 
require,  lend  assistance  in  teaching 
the  higher  branches  of  study,  or 
give  instruction  on  those  topics  which 
may  promote  the  general  object  of 
female  education."  Miss  Rebecca 
Hardy  was  the  first  teacher,  Miss  Re- 
becca Hazeltine  succeeded  as  princi- 
pal, and  her  younger  sister,  Ann,  after- 
ward Mrs.  Judson,  one  of  the  first 
American  missionaries  to  India,  acted 
as  assistant.  A  school  of  from  forty 
to  fifty  pupils  was  gathered,  young 
ladies  from  the  wealthier  families  in  the 
neighborhood  and  surrounding  coun- 
try, with  others  from  places  more 
remote.  The  summer  of  which  I  am 
writing  there  were  several  from  Xew 
Hampshire,  and  the  interior  towns  of 
Massachusetts.  Some  of  the  older 
pupils  were  affianced  to  clergymen, 
and  had  placed  themselves  under  Miss 
Hazeltine's  instruction,  the  better  to 
qualify  themselves  for  the  dignified  and 
responsible  position  of  a  minister's 
wife.  Amongst  these  was  Miss  Lucy 
Brown,  afterwards  Mrs.  Demond  of 
the  upper  parish  in  "West  Newbury. 

The  Misses  Hazeltine  and  some  half 
dozen  of  the  pupils  boarded  with  Dr. 
Parish,  a  number  were  accommodated 
in  the  families  of  Messrs.  Benjamin  and 
Moses  Colman,  the  others  were  located 
in  the  vicinity.  Miss  Lucy  Brown 
boarded  with  Mr.  Moses  Colman,  and 
she  became  such  a  favorite  that  in  after 


years  her  sojourn  in  the   family   was 
often  referred  to  with  pleasure. 

According  to  the  prospectus,  clergy- 
men frequented  the  school  to  lecture 
and  attend  to  its  interests.  To  young 
students  about  entering  the  ministry 
this  seminary  was  a  special  attraction. 
The  pupils  were  often  in  a  flutter  of 
excitement  over  this  and  that  young 
minister,  and  several  engagements  were 
formed.  One  morning  a  very  piously 
disposed  youth  appeared,  whom  the 
principal  introduced  as  the  Rev.  Mr. 
,  adding,  "that  having  deter- 


mined to  consecrate  his  life  to  the  con- 
version of  heathen  in  foreign  lands,  he 
had  come  to  enquire  if  any  one  of  the 
young  ladies  present  could  so  far  deny 
herself  and  take  up  her  cross  as  to 
accompany  him  as  his  soul's  partner  in 
his  work  for  Christ  and  Him  crucified. 
If  either  of  the  misses  felt  that  she 
could  do  so,  put  her  whole  heart  into 
the  holy  work,  she  would  please  rise." 
As  the  sound  died  on  the  teacher's  lips, 
up  jumped  every  girl  in  the  room.  All 
were  ready  to  be  given  as  lambs  to  the 
sacrifice.  After  much  suppressed  laugh- 
ter, some  blushes  and  confusion,  the 
matter  was  deferred  to  another  time, 
but  in  a  few  weeks  the  missionary 
bore  away  a  bride. 

From  time  immemorial  it  had  been 
the  custom  for  parties  to  visit  Plurn 
Island,  in  September,  when  the  plums 
were  ripe.  Families  joined  through- 
out the  neighborhood,  or  the  vouno- 

f  «/  O 

men  and  maidens,  in  as  smart  turnouts 
as  could  be  secured,  gaily  hied,  in  a 
long  procession,  to  spend  a  day  or  an 
afternoon  in  innocent  amusement.  Sev- 
eral parties  of  married  people  in  Bv- 
field  had  made  this  annual  excursion, 
and  as  some  of  the  young  ladies  at  the 
Seminary  from  the  interior  towns,  who 


OF  A 


99 


had  never  seen  the  sea,  had  expressed 
a  desire  for  the  ride,  the  young  gen- 
tlemen of  the  parish  resolved  them- 
selves into  a  committee  to  make  the 
necessary  arrangements  for  a  Plum 
Island  party.  Pains  were  taken  to 
make  it  in  every  respect  a  first-class 
affair,  the  most  perfect  etiquette  being 
observed  in  the  invitations  and  arrange- 
ments. The  intelligence  of  what  was 
afoot,  reached  the  Seminary  a  day  or 
two  prior  to  the  issue  of  the  invita- 
tions, making  quite  a  stir  amongst  the 
pupils.  The  preceptress  made  no  ob- 
jection to  the  proposed  recreation,  but 
the  younger  assistant,  Miss  Ann,  or  as 
she  was  then  termed  Miss  Nancy,  set 
up  such  a  violent  opposition  that 
it  reached  the  ears  of  the  gentle- 
men. Amongst  the  most  prominent  of 
the  By  field  beaux,  was  Joseph  Noyes, 
son  of  Mr.  Lemuel  Noyes.  Of  a 
wealthy  family  and  liberally  educated, 
with  a  pleasing  person  and  address, 
this  3'oung  man  had  been  selected  as 
the  most  suitable  escort  for  Miss  Nanc}T 
Ilazeltine,  but  upon  learning  her  disap- 
proval of  the  party,  he  paid  his  devoirs 
elsewhere,  and  several  of  the  girls 
sought  Dr.  Parish's  advice  respecting 
the  propriety  of  accepting  their  invita- 
tions. The  Doctor  said  go.  "  He  was 
proud  and  pleased  that  the  young  men 
of  his  society  had  thus  given  them  the 
opportunity  to  view  the  beauty,  wonder 
and  sublimity  of  the  mighty  ocean." 
That  summer  Mr.  Moses  Colman  had 
purchased  a  new  chaise.  This  stylish 
vehicle,  the  hight  of  ton,  had  a*  square, 
canvas  covered  top,  with  a  body 
painted  in  bright  vermillion,  the  rest  of 
the  wood-work  dark  brown,  the  lining 
and  cushions  were  of  drab  broadcloth, 
and  an  oilcloth  covered  the  floor.  Da- 
vid Emery  owned  a  horse  ;  Daniel  Col- 


man would  take  his  father's,  but  which 
should  have  the  chaise?  Poor  Mr. 
Colman  puzzled  over  this  problem  all 
one  morning.  At  length  a  happj*  idea 
suggested  itself  which  was  ihade 
known  at  the  dinner  table.  Much  to 
his  son's  astonishment  the  old  gentle- 
man, in  his  loud,  cheery  tones,  abrupt- 
ly exclaimed:  "  Boys  the  one  that 
carries  the  best  girl  to  Plum  Island 
shall  have  the  new  chaise." 

An  addition  was  building  to  Mr. 
Colman's  house  :  at  the  table  were  two 
joiners  from  West  Newbury,  Mr. 
Jonathan  Chase  and  Daniel  Silloway. 
Before  the  disconcerted  young  men 
could  reply,  Mr.  Chase  exclaimed : 
"Then  David  must  have  the  chaise, 
for  he  will  take  Sallie  Smith,  and  she 
is  the  best  girl  in  West  Newbury." 
"  Good,  good,"  the  gentlemen  replied 
with  delight.  David  shall  have  the 
chaise.  Daniel,  as  soon  you  have 
swallowed  your  dinner  go  over  to 
Mose  Dole's  and  hire  the  best  chaise 
he  has." 

Chaise  making  had  already  become 
a  thriving  business  in  West  Newbury, 
but  Mr.  Moses  Dole  of  Byfield  did 
most  of  the  blacksmith  work.  The 
different  artisans  often  clubbed  together 
to  build  a  lot  of  chaises,  which  were 
divided  amongst  them ;  this  caused 
Mr.  Dole  to  usually  have  a  number  of 
these  vehicles  for  sale  or  to  let. 

The  anticipated  morning  at  length 
dawned  clear  and  bright,  a  lovely  Sep- 
tember clay.  Mrs.  Colman  had  insist- 
ed that  I  should  come  over  to  Byfield 
and  dine.  David  came  for  me  about 
ten  o'clock.  The  new  chaise  was  re- 
splendent, and  "  Bob,"  a  chubby  sor- 
rel horse  had  been  groomed  to  match, 
and  the  silver  mounted  harness  was  as 
lustrous  as  whiting  could  polish.  David 


100 


REMINISCENCES 


in  a  handsome  new  suit  looked  as  ele- 
gant as  his  equipage.  White  cambric 
or  dimity  was  the  fashionable  dress  for 
such  an  occasion.  I  wore  white  cam- 
bric, and  a  straw  bonnet  trimmed  with 
a  broad,  white,  lutestring  ribbon. 

David  was  in  high  spirits.  He  had 
just  returned  from  Boston,  and  enter- 
tained me  during  the  ride  with  a  de- 
scription of  his  visit.  He  had  dined 
with  his  friend,  Charles  Parsons,  at 
his  father's,  Judge  Parsons'  mansion. 
Charles  had  great!}'  diverted  his  visitor 
by  introducing  his  youngest  brother  as, 
"  this  is  oui'  Thof,  a  great  sarpint,  just 
like  pa." 

At  dinner  the  judge  had  been  espec- 
ially entertaining.  After  minute  in- 
quires respecting  his  boyhood's  home, 
he  fell  to  recounting  anecdotes  of  his 
school  days.  The  parsonage  boys,  as 
is  proverbial  of  minister's  sons,  had 
been  great  rogues. 

' '  One  day  in  mid  winter  their 
teacher  was  invited  to  dine  at  the  par- 
sonage. He  was  a  self-sufficient,  pom- 
pous coxcomb,  much  disliked  by  his 
pupils,  and  the  minister's  boys  deter- 
mined upon  a  practical  joke.  The 
snow  was  frozen  hard,  and  the  master, 
to  shorten  the  distance,  had  come 
across  lots  from  his  boarding  place. 
After  dinner,  while  the  pedagogue  was 
sipping  hot  punch,  and  smoking  a  pipe 
with  their  father,  his  hopeful  pupils 
proceeded  to  crack  the  ice  in  a  small 
stream  which  their  teacher  would  pass 
on  his  way  home.  This  accomplished, 
they  hid  amidst  some  alders.  It  was  a 
tedious  while  to  wait,  for  the  punch 
and  tobacco  were  good,  the  minister 
entertaining,  and  his  parlor  warm  and 
pleasant.  At  length  towards  dusk 
their  patience  was  rewarded.  The 
lord  of  the  birch  was  descried  ap- 


proaching, swinging  his  cane,  full  of 
self-importance  and  good  cheer.  Proud 
of  having  dined  at  the  parsonage,  he 
strutted  forward  with  an  increased  as- 
sumption of  arrogance,  dressed  in  his 
gold-laced  cocked  hat,  velvet  coat  and 
breeches,  silk  stockings,  and  gaiters. 
On  he  came,  his  head  high  in  air,  his 
cane  twirling  from  his  fingers,  on  —  on 

—  crack  —  crackle  —  splash  —  splurge 

—  kersouse  went  the  discomfitted  Doin- 
inee  knee  deep  in  the  brook,  much  to 
his  chagrin  and  ire,  and  to  the  huge 
delight  of  the  watchers  amid  the  alders. 

There  were  several  sous,  and  one  of 
the  younger  boys  having  inherited  all 
the  worn,  dog-eared  school  books  of 
his  elder  brothers,  determined  that 
they  should  descend  no  farther  ;  so  as 
fast  as  a  leaf  was  committed  to  mem- 
ory he  tore  it  out  and  crammed  it  into 
a  hole  in  the  wall  beside  his  desk,  thus 
at  the  end  of  the  study  the  book  was 
minus,  excepting  covers.  Lem.  Noyes, 
a  somewhat  loutish,  dull  boy,  often 
became  a  butt  for  their  jokes.  They 
had  excited  his  wrath,  and  he  had 
threatened  to  thrash  them.  He  was 
larger  and  stronger  than  the  minis- 
ter's sons ;  the}-  knew  they  stood  no 
chance  in  an  encounter  of  fisticuffs,  so 
they  concocted  a  plan  to  get  the  better 
of  their  school-mate.  In  the  vicinity 
of  the  school  house  was  a  tan  yard, 
and  having  laid  some  loose  boards  over 
one  of  the  vats,  they  challenged  Lem. 
to  .a  race.  The  unsuspecting  youth 
eagerly  joining  in  the  sport,  of  course 
was  permitted  to  get  ahead  ;  proud  of 
his  agility,  the  poor  fellow  rushed  for- 
ward with  a  tremendous  effort,  to  sud- 
denly find  himself  lying  among  the 
hides.  Amongst  the  scholars  was  a 
negro  boy.  Most  of  the  families  in 
Bvfield  in  the  olden  time  held  one  or 


OF   A 


101 


more  slaves,  and  there  was  usually 
quite  a  sprinkling  of  the  sable  hue 
amongst  the  pupils  of  the  district 
school.  The  boys  under  pretence  of 
dressing  the  darky's  head  saturated  his 
wool  with  oil,  then  they  put  him  up  to 
some  prank  for  which  he  was  sure  to 
receive  punishment.  The  teacher  was 
the  one  who  had  received  the  cold  bath, 
a  great  dandy,  always  foppishly  attired. 
Coming  up  the  aisle  and  noticing  the 
delinquent  he  gave  the  little  nig  a 
sound  cuff  in  the  side  of  the  head  which 
spattered  the  oil  all  over  his  fine 
clothes.  The  master  in  impotent  rage 
glanced  over  the  school  house.  The 
parson's  boys  were  the  impersonation 
of  serious  studiousness,  and  the  other 
scholars,  though  wholly  innocent  of  the 
trick,  but  many  of  whom  having  wit- 
nessed the  transaction  were  on  the 
broad  grin,  received  the  castigation 
which  was  so  richly  deserved  else- 
where. 

I  was  greatty  amused  at  these 
stories,  and  the  ride  seemed  unusually 
short.  Some  ten  years  previous  New- 
bury  had  received  an  heir,  a  two  years 
old  boy  of  African  lineage.  What  was 
to  be  done  with  this  waif?  The  over- 
seers of  the  poor  met  to  decide.  It 
was  customary  to  put  such  children,  to 
remain  until  twenty-one,  into  a  family, 
which  received  a  small  compensation 
from  the  town  until  the  child  was  seven 
years  old  ;  after  that  his  services  were 
considered  a  sufficient  remuneration. 
Somebody  must  take  little  Charles 
Fields,  but  where  could  this  somebody 
be  found?  Mr.  Colman's  sons  always 
averred,  "  that  father  was  never  satis- 
fied unless  he  had  a  parrot,  a  monkey 
and  a  nigger."  The  black  baby  with 
his  round  woolly  head,  shining  eyes 
and  glistening  teeth,  fairly  won  the 


benevolent  gentleman's  heart,  and  as 
no  one  else  offered,  he  armfulled  up 
little  Charley,  and  an  hour  later,  much 
to  Mrs.  Colman's  astonishment,  he 
placed  the  bo}~  in  her  lap,  with  the  in- 
junction "to  take  care  of  the  little  ras- 
cal." The  command  was  faithfully  exe- 
cuted. Charles  received  every  privi- 
lege that  had  been  accorded  to  the  sons 
of  the  family,  with  the  exception  of  the 
academic  course  at  Dummer  Academy. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  a  poor  return 
was  received  for  this  trouble  and  care. 
The  little  black  rascal  grew  up  a  big 
rascal,  causing  much  vexation  until  his 
decease,  which  occurred  in  middle  life. 
At  this  time  he  was  a  stout  lad  of 
thirteen.  Cap  in  hand,  with  a  pro- 
found obeisance  and  a  great  display  of 
ivory,  he  swung  aside  the  gate  at  the 
head  of  the  avenue  as  we  drove  up. 

Mrs.  Colman  gave  me  a  cordial,  and 
Mr.  Colman  a  rapturous  greeting. 
"  Had  he  not  always  promised  that  I 
should  be  David's  little  wife  ?  "  I  was 
introduced  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John 
Colman.  John,  the  oldest  son  of 
Deacon  Colman,  had  married  a  lady  by 
the  name  of  Danforth.  This  couple 
signalized  themselves  by  their  migra- 
tory life,  during  which  they  made 
thuty-two  removals.  Some  half  doz- 
en of  these  were  between  Byfield 
and  Maine.  Mrs.  Colman  used  to 
boast  that  she  had  crossed  the  ocean 
between  Newburyport  and  the  District 
of  Maine  fourteen  times,  and  she 
would  add,  "the  happiest  time  in  my 
life  was  when  I  was  midway  in  these 
removals  ;  at  that  point  I  was  rejoicing 
at  having  left  the  old  place  and  look- 
ing forward  with  hope  to  the  new." 

As  was  natural,  these  rolling  stones 
gathered  little  moss,  but  always  san- 
guine and  cheerful,  they  passed  as 


102 


REMINISCENCES 


happy  and  contented  a  life  as  either  of 
the  family.  At  this  time  the}*  were 
paying  a  farewell  visit  to  their  brother 
prior  to  one  of  their  Sittings  eastward. 

During  the  Revolutionary  war  Dea- 
con Colman  had  filled  an  army  order 
for  boots  and  shoes.  These  with  other 
clothing  Moses  had  taken  in  mid-win- 
ter to  New.  Jersey  in  a  covered  cart 
,  drawn  by  a  span  of  horses. 

During  dinner  Mr.  Colmaii  gave  a 
graphic  description  of  the  ragged  and 
desolate  appearance  of  our  troops,  on 
his  arrival  at  Morristown,  just  at  the 
close  of  that  winter  so  memorable  for 
suffering,  and  the  joy  with  which  his 
arrival  was  hailed. 

"  Yes,"  exlaimed  old  Mitchell,  "  and 
the  shoes  were  a  good  honest  make, 
but  the  stockings,  most  of  them,  were  a 
darned  cheat,  and  the  woman  that  could 
thus  deceive  a  poor  soldier  must  have  a 
mighty  small  soul."  The  hose  had  been 
knit  loose,  then  stretched  on  a  board 
fashioned  like  a  last ;  when  washed  they 
shrunk  so  as  to  be  scarcely  wearable. 
This  was  in  the  good  old  times  ;  human 
nature  is  much  alike  in  all  generations. 

The  rendezvous  for  the  party  had 
been  appointed  at  Deacon  Ben.  Col- 
man's.  From  a  dozen  to  fifteen  chaises 
formed  in  procession,  and  gaily  trot- 
ted to  the  island.  Our  visit  was  ex- 
pected. Mr.  Clifford  and  his  waiters 
were  profuse  in  their  attention.  We 
were  ushered  into  the  parlor,  wine  hav- 
ing been  served,  we  proceeded  amid 
much  fun  and  frolic,  to  make  our  wav 
to  the  beach  over  the  loose  sand. 
Joseph  Noyes  escorted  a  Miss  Parkis, 
the  daughter  of  Dr.  Parkis,  a  distin- 
guished physician  of  Hanover ;  and 
Daniel  Colman,  Miss  Betsy  Smith,  a 
great  witch,  and  the  only  daughter  of 
a  wealthy  family  in  Dover.  Miss  Par- 


kis and  Mr.  Noyes  were  very  merry 
at  Miss  Nancy  Hazeltine's  expense. 
As  Mr.  Noyes 'drove  up  to  take  Miss 
Parkis,  Miss  Hazeltine,  glancing  from 
the  window,  exclaimed,  "there's  Joe. 
Noyes,  he  has  come  to  take  me  to  Plum 
Island,  but  he  will  find  I  do  not  coun- 
tenance such  frivolity."  To  her  cha- 
grin Miss  Parkis  tripped  down  the 
stairs,  Mr.  Noyes  assisted  her  into  the 
chaise,  and  with  a  polite  salutation  to 
Miss  Nancy  at  the  window,  drove 
away. 

After  a  merry  afternoon,  we  returned 
to  the  hotel,  where  an  elegant  supper 
awaited  us,  spread  in  the  iipper  hall. 
At  its  close,  as  it  was  near  sunset,  the 
chaises  were  ordered.  At  Newbury- 
port  Mr.  Emery  and  myself  bade  the 
others  good  evening,  and  took  the  di- 
rect route  for  West  Newbury. 

The  young  ladies  at  the  Seminary 
were  so  delighted  with  their  excursion, 
that  girl-like  they  gave  enthusiastic 
descriptions  of  the  ride.  This  brought 
such  severe  animadversions  from  the 
assistant  teacher,  that  her  pupils,  some 
of  them  as  old,  or  older  than  herself, 
lost  patience.  The  matter  spread 
amongst  the  gentlemen,  and  the  big 
scamps, in  the  total  depravity  _of  their 
unregenerate  hearts,  planned  a  practi- 
cal joke  at  the  expense  of  the  lady 
whom  they  regarded  as  righteous  over- 
much. I  never  knew  who  originated 
the  plot,  but  strongly  suspect  that  it 
might  have  sprung  from  the  creative 
brains  of  Miss  Betsy  Smith  and  Daniel 
Colman.  Few  that  only  knew  the 
staid  man  in  after  years,  could  compre- 
hend what  a  gay  fellow  he  then  was. 

In  Mr.  Colman' s  employ  was  a  young 
man,  the  son  of  a  deceased  pastor  of 
Rowley,  John  Jewett,  a  very  clever, 
but  rather  simple  fellow,  who  was  in- 


OP   A 


103 


formed  that  he  ought  to  invite  Miss  Haz- 
eltine  to  go  to  Plum  Island.  "  She  re- 
ceived no  invitation  at  the  time  of  the 
party  ;  for  the  honor  of  Byfield  this  over- 
sight ought  to  be  repaired.  A  clergy- 
man's son,  he  was  the  one  for  her  escort. 
He  should  have  the  new  chaise  and 
David's  horse,  the  most  stylish  equip- 
ment." 

At  first  John  demurred,  but  his  cour- 
age having  been  raised  by  the  bribe  of 
a  pound  of  tobacco,  an  article  of  which 
he  was  inordinately  fond,  a  few  eve- 
nings after  the  party,  the  young  man 
all  in  his  best  —  and  he  always  dressed 
handsomely — dashed  up  to  Dr.  Parish's 
door,  in  the  unexceptionable  turnout, 
and  inquired  for  Miss  Nancy  Hazeltine. 
Upon  that  lady's  appearance,  in  his 
most  courtly  manner,  and  he  was  very- 
well  bred,  he  requested  the  pleasure  of 
her  company  on  a  ride  to  Plum  Island 
the  next  afternoon.  Miss  Nancy  drew 
back  in  surprise  and  horror,  and  with 
an  indignant  exclamation,  slammed  the 
door  in  the  face  of  the  astonished  gal- 
lant, who  after  standing  a  moment  on 
the  door-stone  in  bewildered  astonish- 
ment, returned  to  the  chaise,  and  drove 
home  with  curses  both  loud  and  deep 
upon  his  lips.  Miss  Nancy  sought  her 
room  in  such  an  Irysterical  excitement 
that  it  roused  the  household. 

Dr.  Parish  was  subject  to  slight  fits 
of  illness,  accompanied  by  great  de- 
pression of  spirits, —  his  hypo  spells, 
his  wife  denominated  them.  He  had 
been  suffering  from  one  of  these  at- 
tacks, had  been  confined  to  his  bed  sev- 
eral days,  but  upon  learning  what  had 
occurred  he  rose,  and  hurrying  on 
his  clothes,  summoned  the  young  teach- 
er to  his  presence.  She  appeared  irate 
and  sobbing.  Bidding  her  be  seated, 
the  clergyman  exclaimed,  "Why,  Miss 


Nancy,  I  am  surprised  at  this  excite- 
ment. Do  not  let  your  feelings  be 
wounded  !  John  Jewett  is  a  very  esti- 
mable young  man,  very  estimable.  He 
is  a  minister's  son,  Miss  Nancy,  his 
father  was  a  very  worthy  man,  old  Par- 
son Jewett  of  Rowley.  Dry  your  eyes, 
and  compose  your  spirits,  my  dear,  no 
harm  is  done,  John  is  a  deserving 
young  man,  a  minister's  son,  Miss  Nan- 
cy, a  minister's  son." 

Somewhat  mollified,  Miss  Nancy  re- 
tired, and  the  clergyman  called  for  tea 
and  toast,  entirely  cured  of  his  hypo. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Mjr  father  had  reached  his  goal.  By 
industry  and  economy  the  whole  of  the 
ancestral  acres  had  been  secured.  His 
heart  was  in  his  work ;  he  was  a  good 
agriculturalist,  and  had  given  great  at- 
tention to  fruit  culture.  He  had  plant- 
ed and  grafted  some  two  or  three  hun- 
dred apple  trees  ;  there  was  quite  a  va- 
riety of  pears  and  a  thriving  peach  or- 
chard on  the  place.  Grapes  grew 
spontaneously.  The  stone  walls  were 
covered  with  vines  which  bore  luxuri- 
antly large,  luscious  clusters  both  of 
the  purple  and  white  grapes.  There 
was  a  difference  in  the  quality  of  this 
wild  fruit,  some  being  equal  if  not  su- 
perior to  that  produced  in  our  gardens 
at  the  present  time.  The  farm  on  the 
September  of  that  year  presented  a 
tempting  array  of  fruit.  The  trees 
never  looked  finer  than  on  the  twelfth 
of  the  month.  The  da}*  was  warm  and 
cloudy ;  at  dusk  it  began  to  rain.  I 
had  a  piece  of  linen  whitening  on  the 


104 


REMINISCENCES 


grass  ;  fearing  it  might  mildew,  I  went 
to  take  it  in,  and  was  struck  by  the  sul- 
try stillness  of  the  night.  After  I  went 
to  my  chamber,  I  sat  some  time  at  the 
open  window  enjoying  the  quiet  rain 
which  was  falling  steadily.  About  mid- 
night I  was  awakened  by  the  unbarring 
of  the  front  door,  and  mother  screaming 
' '  something  terrible  is  coming  !  "  as 
she  hastily  opened  and  closed  it.  At 
the  moment  a  strange  rush  and  roar 
struck  my  ear,  rapidly  advancing.  I 
could  liken  it  to  nothing  but  wagons 
rattling  over  frozen  ground,  but  it 
more  nearly  resembled  the  noise  of  a 
railroad  train.  Lightning  flashed, 
thunder  pealed,  and  rain  poured  in  tor- 
rents. Springing  from  bed,  I  seized 
my  sister,  a  girl  of  ten,  and  with  the 
half  awakened  child  descended  the 
stairs,  and  passing  through  the  front 
entry,  entered  the  west  room.  The 
rush,  roar,  crash  and  din  are  wholly- 
indescribable,  accompanied  by  such 
dense  darkness,  that  not  a  thing  was 
discernible.  Half  way  across  the 
front  room,  we  were  stopped  by  a  ter- 
rible bang  and  crack,  at  the  same  mo- 
ment a  missile  was  hurled  through  the 
broken  window,  which,  striking  Susan, 
fell  in  the  fire-place  opposite.  The 
child  shrieked  fearfully ;  dragging  her 
by  the  arm,  I  rushed  into  the  kitchen 
screaming,  "Sukey  is  dead,  Suke}'  is 
dead ! " 

The  whole  family  had  collected  in  the 
room.  The  cry  was  for  a  light,  but  in 
the  fright  and  confusion  not  a  candle- 
stick of  the  number  always  there  could 
be  found.  I  mustered  sufficient  compo- 
sure to  bring  a  candle  from  the  box  in 
the  cellar-way  ;  raking  open  the  embers 
on  the  hearth  it  was  quickly  lighted. 
Speedily  as  this  had  been  effected,  by 
the  time  I  had  put  it  in  the  candle-stick 


the  tornado  had  passed.  As  I  turned 
to  place  the  light  on  the  table,  the  moon 
burst  from  the  clouds,  its  beams  falling 

7  O 

brightly  on  the  white  floor.  Father 
opened  the  baqk  door.  With  the  ex- 
clamation, "I  am  ruined!"  he  sallied 
back  into  a  chair  and  buried  his  face 
in  his  hands.  Pale  and  disma^-ed, 
we  peered  forth.  At  first  nothing  was 
distinguishable  but  one  general  wreck 
and  ruin,  unroofed  buildings,  prostrate 
trees  and  fences,  mixed  with  the  debris 
of  broken  fanning  tools  and  household 
utensils.  My  father  was  not  a  man  to 
long  succumb  to  misfortune.  Proceed- 
ing to  dress,  he  bade  the  boys  get  into 
their  clothes.  Our  first  thought  was  of 
the  cows.  As  we  stepped  out  to  seek 
them,  we  met  uncle  Thurrell,  his  son 
and  hired  man.  They  were  still  too 
much  confused  to  know  the  extent  of 
the  injury  done  to  their  premises,  but 
the  barn  was  partly  unroofed,  the  corn 
barn  tipped  over,  and  the  cider  mill,  a 
large,jheavy  building,  had  been  lifted 
from  its  foundation  and  carried  several 
rods.  The  cows  were  safe,  crouched 
together,  a  frightened  group  in  the  field, 
and  two  cossets  that  had  been  with  them 
in  the  cow-yard  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
barn,  the  doors  of  which  had  been 
burst  open.  The  horse  had  been  at 
pasture  half  a  mile  away,  but  as  the 
men  and  boys  went  out  she  came  whin- 
nying towards  them.  Whether  she  ran 
or  blew  home  we  never  knew,  but  she 
evidently  had  a  long  story  to  tell,  if  it 
could  have  been  understood. 

Nearly  half  of  the  roof  of  our  house 
was  gone,  and  a  third  of  that  of  the 
long  barn.  A  large  shed  had  been 
blown  from  the  end  of  the  barn  and 
flung  against  the  end  of  the  house. 
The  concussion,  as  this  came  against  the 
wall,  was  the  cause  of  my  fright  as  I 


OF   A 


105 


crossed  the  room  with  my  sister.  From 
seventy  to  eighty  trees  laid  on  the 
ground.  A  cart  loaded  with  ha^',  that 
had  been  left  the  previous  evening  front 
of  the  barn,  had  entirely  disappeared, 
not  a  vestige  of  it  was  ever  seen  except- 
ing one  wheel  which  la}*  near  the  back 
door.  Two  heavy  ox-sleds  piled  in  the 
yard,  had  been  carried  a  considerable 
distance  ;  barrels,  boxes,  etc.  had  been 
taken  from  the  garret  with  the  roof  and 
scattered  about  the  yard,  amongst  these 
was  a  basket  of  feathers,  which  had 
been  set  down  unharmed  b}T  the  front 
door.  A  brass  kettle,  that  had  been 
hanging  by  the  back  door,  was  found 
some  weeks  after,  battered  and  bent, 
in  a  swamp  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
The  potatoes  were  blown  from  the  hills. 
The  shed  that  had  come  from  the  barn 
had  shielded  the  wood-pile,  and  the 
milk-pails  at  the  end  of  the  house  were 
found  hanging  upon  the  stakes. 

Upon  examination  it  was  found  that 
about  the  same  number  of  trees  had 
been  uprooted  on  uncle  ThurrelTs  place 
as  ours  ;  the  Doles  also  sustained  some 
injury  to  their  orchard,  but  their  build- 
ings stood  below  the  track  of  the  hur- 
ricane. On  Ilsley's  hill,  the  barn  doors 
and  the  back  door  of  the  house  were 
unhinged,  and  the  cow-yard  fence  was 
thrown  down.  Jonathan  Ilsley,  going 
home  from  a  party,  to  his  surprise, 
found  the  cows  in  the  corn  field ;  as  he 
drove  them  home,  he  saw  the  injury  to 
the  premises.  Hastening  into  the 
house  he  awoke  the  family  to  learn  what 
had  happened,  but  not  a  soul  could  tell ; 
their  slumbers  had  been  so  sound,  the 
storm  had  not  awakened  them. 

Farther  on,  the  barn  of  Mr.  Daniel 
Ordway  was  entirely  demolished.  Da}~- 
light  disclosed  a  straight  line  of  pros- 
trate trees,  the  path  of  the  tornado  as 


it  had  passed  over  Bradford  woods,  but 
after  leaving  Mr.  Ordway 's,  little  dam- 
age was  done  ;  its  track  was,  however, 
traced  to  a  wharf  in  Newburyport, 
where  it  overturned  a  small  building. 

The  next  morning  we  learned  that  a 
small  house,  about  four  miles  above  us 
in  Bradford  had  been  destroyed,  one 
child  killed  and  the  rest  of  the  family 
injured.  The  furniture  of  this  house 
was  widely  scattered.  A  bonnet  be- 
longing to  the  mistress  of  the  place  be- 
ing found  in  the  lower  parish  of  West 
Newbury,  some  distance  beyond  Ord- 
wa}"'s  barn.  Before  sunrise  Mr.  Ste- 
phen Noyes  from  the  main  road  coming 
over  Crane-neck  street,  on  his  way  to 
the  grist  mill  at  Byfield,  to  his  conster- 
nation descried  the  havoc  on  the  top  of 
the  hill.  Scarcely  crediting  his  sight, 
he  drew  rein  at  Mr.  Pillsbury's.  The 
family  had  just  risen  ;  neither  they  nor 
that  of  then-  opposite  neighbor,  Mr. 
Stephen  Little,  had  been  awakened  by 
the  tornado.  In  a  body  these  neigh- 
bors hastened  to  our  house.  At  that 
moment,  David  Goodrich,  a  young  man 
residing  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below,  rode 
furiously  up  the  lane.  The  party  that 
Mr.  Ilsley  had  attended,  had  been  at 
his  house.  Dancing  had  continued  till 
past  twelve  ;  in  the  merriment  no  one 
had  heeded  the  shower,  and  when  the 
company  dispersed  the  sky  was  clear, 
and  the  moon  was  shining.  Going  to 
the  barn  in  the  morning,  and  chancing 
to  glance  up  the  hill,  to  his  utter  amaze- 
ment and  fright,  he  saw  the  devasta- 
tion. Stopping  neither  for  coat  nor 
saddle,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  gal- 
loped to  our  aid.  The  neighborhood, 
and  ere  long,  the  whole  town  was 
aroused  ;  many  came  from  B}'field,  and 
some  from  Newburyport.  Bands  were 
organized,  and  everybody  went  to 
14 


106 


REMINISCENCES 


work  with  a  will  to  repair  the  dam- 
age. Amongst  the  first  and  most 
zealous,  was  Mr.  Edward  Hill.  By 
seven  o'clock  he  came  in  bearing  his 
tools ;  with  a  perfectly  rational  air  he 
quietly  inspected  the  buildings,  then 
set  to  work  with  an  industry  which 
continued  until  the  premises  were  again 
in  order. 

Derricks  were  rigged,  and  the  process 
of  resetting  the  apple  trees  commenced. 
The  hurricane  came  Wednesday  night ; 
before  sunset  Saturda}'  evening  every 
tree  had  been  replaced,  and  the  build- 
ings covered.  Nothing  remained  un- 
done, but  the  repairing  of  fences,  and 
a  general  setting  to  rights  of  small 
things  about  the  house  and  grounds. 
I  believe  that  even*  one  of  those  trees 
lived,  some  presenting  rather  a  crooked 
and  gnarled  appearance,  but  \-ear  by 
year  they  bore  a  goodly  burden,  and 
several  are  still  standing  vigorous  and 
fruitful. 


CHAPTER  XXVTI. 

Prior  to  my  birth  there  had  been  an 
exodus  of  Xewbury  people  to  the  wilds 
of  New  Hampshire  ;  Littles,  Gerrishs, 
Coffins,  Pillsburys,  Pearsons  and  Dodg- 
es. These  settled  in  the  town  of  Bos- 
cawen. The  Littles  established  them- 
selves on  a  long  and  high  hill,  much 
resembling  "  Crane-neck  in  their  native 
town.  There  is  a  legend  "  that  the  Lit- 
tles always  settled  on  high  ground,  and 
purchased  the  land  that  joined  them." 
Not  a  lovelier  spot  could  have  been 
selected  than  "Little's  Hill."  Kear- 
sarge  uprearing  its  lofty  head  near  by, 
and  the  Blackwater  meandering  in  the 
distance.  A  tract  of  land  belonging  to 


the  estate  of  the'father  of  David  Em- 
ery, was  located  in  Boscawen  ;  thither 
Mr.  Colman  annually  drove  a  herd  of 
cows  for  pasturage,  the  milking  and 
cheese-making  being  done  in  the  fami- 
ly of  Mr.  Joseph  Little.  In  this  way 
the  sons  of  the  Byfield  household  be- 
came almost  domesticated  in  the  place. 
For  several  years  it  had  been  the  cus- 
tom for  these  Boscawen  farmers,  du- 
ring the  winter  leisure,  to  go  to  Mas- 
sachusetts and  purchase  fresh  fish, 
which,  in  a  frozen  state,  were  taken 
in  box  sleds  drawn  by  a  span  of 
horses,  to  Montreal  in  Canada,  where 
they  met  with  a  ready  sale  at  renumer- 
ative  price  during  Lent.  A  return  load 
of  furs  and  other  articles  rendered 
these  trips  exceeding!}-  profitable. 

Having  from  boyhood  heard  the  ac- 
counts of  these  journeys,  David  Em- 
ery conceived  a  strong  desire  to  visit 
Montreal  and  try  his  luck  in  a  venture 
there.  On  the  twenty-seventh  of  De- 
cember, he  joined  a  party  consisting  of 
Messrs.  Enoch  and  Joseph  Gerrish. 
Mr.  Nathan  Carter  and  a  Mr.  Clough. 
After  a  month's  absence,  he  returned 
highly  delighted  with  the  trip,  which 
had  combined  both  pleasure  and  profit. 

I  was*  making  my  usual  winter  visit 
in  town  and  had  gone  to  pass  a  day  at 
Mr.  Jeremiah  Column's.  A  shadow 
darkened  the  window  ;  glancing  up.  to 
our  surprise,  as  he  had  not  been  expect- 
ing for  a  week,  whom  should  we  espy 
but  David  Emery.  The  dinner  hour 
was  enlivened  by  the  young  man's 
graphic  account  of  the  journey.  His 
companions  were  a  jolly  set.  the  mam- 
little  blunders  and  mishaps  inseparable 
from  such  a  trip,  had  given  amusement 
rather  than  annoyance.  The  inconven- 
ience of  the  small  and  crowded  houses 
of  entertainment  had  been  received  in 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN". 


107 


the  same  spirit.  I  never  yet  saw  a 
Gerrish  that  could  not  extract  some  fun 
from  his  surroundings,  let  them  be  ever 
so  dismal.  Mr.  Emer}-  had  been  ex- 
ceedingly entertained  with  the  novelt}' 
of  French  Canadian  life.  He  was 
pleased  with  their  stoves,  and  especially 
praised  their  bread.  Montreal  im- 
pressed him  favorably,  though  the  cold 
was  so  intense  during  the  whole  of  his 
stay,  that  "  you  are  freezing,"  was  the 
hourly  cry  from  one  person  to  another 
on  the  street.  Notwithstanding  the 
bitter  weather  he  managed  to  see  the 
cit}'.  His  busines  brought  him  in  con- 
tact with  the  officers  of  the  garrison, 
and  lie  made  many  pleasant  acquaintan- 
ces, and  was  shown  much  attention  and 
hospitality.  He  attended  high  mass  at 
the  cathedral,  thus  getting  a  sight  of  va- 
rious dignitaries,  and  a  knowledge  of 
the  pomp  of  the  service  of  that  church 
to  which  he  had  been  introduced  in  the 
wilderness.  A  description  of  a  swap 
of  horses  on  the  plains  of  Abraham, 
elicited  peals  of  laughter.  Thither  the 
farmers  around  Montreal  were  wont  to 
gather  on  certain  days  for  the  barter 
and  sale  of  horses.  One  of  Mr.  Em- 
ery's horses  having  become  quite  lame, 
he  was  desirous  to  exchange  if  for  the 
home  journey*,  but  totally  unacquainted 
with  French,  he  was  at  a  loss  how  to 
manage.  Having  spoken  to  his  friends 
upon  the  subject,  he  was  directed  to 
ride  out  to  the  plains,  he  would  find  the 
dealers  drawn  up  in  a  line,  he  must 
ride  out  before  them,  waving  his  whip 
and  uttering  an  indescribable  cry,  some- 
thing not  belonging  to  an}r  known  lan- 
guage, but  which  was  peculiar!}*  ludi- 
crous. Doing  as  directed,  he  made  a 
good  exchange,  procured  a  strong,  kind 
horse.  His  load  home  consisted  of 
sewing-silk  and  furs.  He  brought  me 


some  splendid  sable  skins,  which  were 
made  into  an  elegant  muff  and  tippet, 
the  tippet,  a  deep  cape  with  long  ends, 
and  the  muff  of  the  huge  dimensions 
worn  in  those  days.  This  was  my  first 
visit  to  Newburyport  since  General 
Peabody's  family  had  taken  possession 
of  their  fine  new  mansion  on  State, 
corner  of  Harris  street,  the  lower  half 
of  the  present  Merrimac  House 

The  estate  upon  which  my  uncle's 
palatial  residence  was  built,  had  for- 
merly extended  up  State,  nearly  to 
High,  and  down  to  the  estate  of 
Dr.  Lowell,  afterward  the  site  of  the 
Tracj-  mansion,  thence  it  ran  back  to 
Green  street.  Harris  street  was  cut 
through  the  grounds,  thus  deriving  its 
name.  The  Harrises  had  been  a  dis- 
tinguished colonial  family.  The  Rev. 
Henry  Harris,  the  father  of  Benjamin 
Harris,  the  proprietor  of  the  State 
street  property,  was  one  of  the  first 
missionaries  sent  from  England,  to  fill 
the  rectorship  of  King's  Chapel,  Bos- 
ton. The  oldest  daughter  of  Benja- 
min Harris,  who  was  an  enterprising 
merchant,  married  Joseph  Hooper,  a 
son  of  "King  Hooper"  of  Marblehead. 
Mr.  Hooper,  a  loyalist,  left  this  country 
with  man}-  others  of  like  view  in  1774. 
He  never  returned,  and  his  property 
in  Marblehead  was  confiscated.  His 
wife  reside*  in  the  Harris  mansion  un- 
til her  death,'  when  Gen.  Peabody  pur- 
chased it.  A  handsome  house  of  the 
ante-Revolutionary  style,  the  new  pro- 
prietor was  by  many  strongly  urged 
not  to  build,  but  three-storied  brick 
houses  were  going  up  on  all  sides,  and 
my  uncle  concluded  to  follow  the  fash- 
ion. 

The  Harris  mansion  was  sold  to  E. 
and  I.  Swett,  and  moved  to  Maryborough 
street.  The  new  house,  in  the  archi- 


108 


REMINISCENCES 


tecture  common  for  a  genteel  residence 
at  that  period,  was  a  square,  brick  struc- 
ture, with  a  flat  roof  edged  by  a  wooden 
balustrade,  a  portico  over  the  front  en- 
trance on  State  street,  and  a  side  door, 
with  a  long  L  and  shed  extending  to  the 
stable  on  Harris   street.     In  the   rear 
stretched  a  garden  handsomely  laid  out 
the  trim  parterres  then  in  vogue,  and  well 
stocked  with  choice  flowers  and  fruits. 
The  principal  entrance  opened  into  a 
hall,  a  door  leading  to  the  garden  at  the 
lower   end.     To  the  left  two   parlors 
opened  to  each  other  b}*  folding  doors  ; 
to  the  right  was  the  sitting  or  dining 
room,  and  across  the  end  entry  came 
the  kitchen.     The   chambers    in  both 
stories  corresponded  to  the  rooms  be- 
low ;  and  from  the  upper  stovy  and  the 
roof  a   magnificent   view   of   the    sur- 
rounding  countn',  the  river  and  bay, 
were  obtained.     In  the  L  a  large  outer 
kitchen  had  been  fitted  with  a  '•  Rum- 
ford  Cookery."     This  was  a' huge  con- 
trivance of  brick  and  masouiy  invented 
b}'  the  celebrated  Count  Rurnford.     It 
had  several  boilers  of  different  sizes, 
and  other  devices  to  facilitate  domestic 
purposes,    with  apertures  under    each 
for   a  wood   fire.     The    furnishing   of 
this   new  house  corresponded  to  it   in 
elegance :  that  of  the  best  room  was 
handsomely  carved  mahogany  with  cov- 
erings of  a  golden  tinted  dftmask,  and 
curtains  to  match  ;  with  marble  top  ta- 
bles, and  mai'ble  mantels  and  hearths, 
which  were   imported   from   Italy.     A 
marble  topped  side-boad  and  a  piano 
had  been  purchased  in  Paris  ;  the  carpets 
were  from  English  looms,  and  the  rest 
of  the   furniture  was   as   splendid   as 
American  warehouses  could  furnish. 

During  my  visit  aunt  Peabody  invi- 
ted some  of  the  neighboring  young  la- 
dies and  gentlemen  to  tea  ;  thus  I  was 


introduced  to  a  circle,  most  of  whom 
became  life-long  friends.  There  were 
the  Misses  Balch,  their  brothers  and  Mr. 
Hudson,  (Miss  Fanny  Balch  was  not 
then  married.)  the  Misses  Frothingham 
and  their  brother  Mr.  Henry  Frothing- 
ham, and  Mr.  John  Chickering.  Each 
of  this  merry  group,  including  my 
cousin,  Sophronia  Peabody,  four  years 
nry  junior,  have  finished  their  earthly 
career,  and  gone  to  the  eternal  home  ; 
I  alone  am  left  to  tell  the  tale. 


CHAPTER  XXVHI. 

A  farm  adjoining  my  grandfather 
Little's  was  owned  by  two  brothers.  Jo- 
siah  and  Amos  Hill.  In  1806  these 
gentlemen  sold  the  estate  to  my  uncle 
Enoch  Smith,  and,  in  company  with 
Mr.  Frank  Brown,  repaired  to  a  town- 
ship in  the  District  of  Maine,  on  the 
Pleasant  river,  a  tributary  of  the 
Peuobscot,  some  forty  miles  above  Ban- 
gor.  A  settlement  was  begun  on  the 
river,  called  Brownville,  in  honor  of 
Mr.  Moses  Brown  of  Xewburyport, 
who  held  a  large  interest  in  the  loca- 
tion. Mills  were  erected  at  the  falls  on 
the  river,  and  farms  were  cleared  from 
the  forest.  Fifty  acres  of  land  was 
presented  to  airy  settler  who  would 
erect  buildings  and  cultivate  a  farm. 

This  flitting  caused  a  great  excite- 
ment in  our  quiet  town.  We  had  the 
bustle  of  uncle  Enoch's  family  moving 
to  then*  new  home,  and  though  we  were 
glad  of  the  additional  room,  the  house 
seemed  strangely  still  and  lonely. with 
only  grandm'am  and  aunt  Sarah. 

Maj.   Josiah   Hill  was  an  energetic, 


OF   A 


109 


enterprising  man,  and  both  himself 
and  brother  were  a  loss  to  our  com- 
munity. The  preparations  for  this 
new  home  in  the  wilderness  were  nec- 
essarily upon  a  large  scale,  many  hands 
were  kept  busy  for  several  weeks. 

This  enterprise  proved  eminently 
successful.  Each  year  some  of  the 
emigrants  visited  then-  old  home,  and 
brought  glowing  accounts  of  the  settle- 
ment. Maj.  Hill's  oldest  son,  Samuel, 
had  remained  in  town,  but  the  third 
year  after  his  father's  departure,  he 
concluded  to  join  him.  An  urgent  re- 
quest was  sent  to  Hannah  Bailey,  a 
niece  of  Mrs.  Josiah  Hill,  to  accom- 
pamr  her  cousin  ;  her  aunt  insisted  that 
she  should  come  and  stay  a  year. 
Hannah  was  just  seventeen,  a  bright, 
black-eyed  girl,  ambitious  and  capa- 
ble ;  fearing  nothing,  and  ready  for 
anything,  it  was  but  natural  that  she 
should  be  eager  for  the  expedition.  Her 
father  and  mother,  after  a  time,  gave 
a  somewhat  reluctant  consent  to  the 
visit,  but  most  of  the  family  were  ve- 
hement in  their  opposition.  Aunt  Poll, 
a  maiden  sister  of  Mr.  Bailey,  was 
especially  exercised  respecting  her  niece. 
"  Brother  and  sister  must  be  clean  dis- 
traught, to  permit  that  harum,  scarum 
witch  to  go  sich  a  jaunt.  Wiry,  if 
she  escaped  the  dangers  of  the  sea? 
there  was  rivers  to  cross,  and  nobodj* 
knew  how  man}'  miles  of  woods  to  ride 
through  afore  she  could  get  to  Major 
Hill's.  Woods  all  full  of  wild  beasts, 
bears,  catamounts  and  sich  like,  every 
kind  of  ravenous  animals  ;  she  shouldn't 
be  surprised  if  the  Behemoth  of  Scrip- 
ter  was  a  roving  round  in  them  ere 
dark,  tangled  thickets,  all  full  of  snakes 
and  other  venomous  reptiles." 

Notwithstanding  aunt  Poll's  and  the 
others'    remonstrances,    Hannah,    not 


the  least  daunted  at  their  dire  prognos- 
tications, sailed  in  October  from  New- 
bun-port,  with  her  cousin  Sam.  Hill,  in 
an  old  schooner  bound  for  Bangor. 
The  trip  was  made  in  safety.  Not 
much  troubled  with  sea-sickness,  the 
novelty  was  such,  Miss  Bailey  counted 
the  inconvenience  of  the  voyage  as 
nought.  The  weather  became  unusu- 
ally severe  for  the  season,  and  the  ice 
formed  so  fast  the  skipper  was  com- 
pelled to  land  his  passengers  twelve 
miles  below  Bangor.  Mr.  Hill  had 
taken  his  horse,  so  another  must  be 
procured  for  his  cousin,  as  there  was 
no  carnage  road  to  Brownville.  Pro- 
ceeding to  Bangor  to  make  arrange- 
ments, Mr.  Hill  unexpectedly  found  a 
younger  brother,  who  had  come  thither 
to  pursue  his  studies  through  the  win- 
ter. His  horse  was  to  have  been  taken 
home  at  the  first  opportunity.  It  was 
young  and  spirited,  but  Hannah  Bailey 
was  an  experienced  and  fearless  rider, 
and  it  was  decided  that  she  should 
mount  the  steed,  while  her  cousin  rode 
his  own  horse.  The  baggage  was  tak- 
en from  the  trunks  and  packed  in  bags, 
strapped  behind  the  saddles.  Every- 
thing made  ready,  fully  equipped,  the 
cousins  commenced  the  journey.  The 
road  was  only  a  bridle-path  through  a 
dense  forest.  Streams  were  to  be 
forded,  fallen  trees  to  be  leaped,  and 
many  other  difficulties  to  be  surmount- 
ed. Miles  apart  came  clearings,  where 
buildings  of  logs  or  slabs  uprose  amid 
fields  dotted  with  burned  stumps.  Rest 
and  refreshment  were  obtained  at  these 
houses.  The  pair  were  two  daj-s  and 
nights  on  the  road,  but  arrived  safely 
at  their  destination,  somewhat  fatigued, 
yet  highly  delighted  with  the  trip. 
Miss  Bailey  remained  at  her  uncle's  a 
little  over  a  year,  then  taking  advan- 


110 


REMIXISCEXCES 


tage  of  good  sleighing,  she  came  home 
with  two  of  her  cousins.  After  my  re- 
turn from  Xewburyport,  she  paid  us  a 
visit.  We  were  greatly  entertained 
with  her  lively  and  graphic  description 
of  the  journeys  to  and  fro,  and  her 
life  in  the  forest.  The  account  of  the 
two  days  ride  through  the  woods,  eh' ci- 
ted peals  of  laughter,  such  queer  di- 
lemmas and  ludicrous  accidents  pre- 
sented themselves.  Her  young  horse 
needed  a  firm  hand;  at  the  first  run- 
ning stream  he  hesitated,  after  a  mo- 
ment's consideration,  gathered  for  a 
leap,  and  sprang  across  ;  Hannah  kept 
the  saddle,  and  in  this  way  was  taken 
across  every  brook  on  the  road.  The 
elder  horse  witnessing  his  companion's 
agility,  proceeded  to  copjr  his  example. 
After  Miss  Bailee'  had  become  domes- 
ticated in  Brownville,  in  company  with 
her  cousin,  Charlotte  Hill,  she  paid 
frequent  visits  to  the  farm  houses  in 
the  vicinity,  but  the  two  horses  could 
never  be  persuaded  to  wade  a  stream ; 
the}'  invariably  took  them  at  a  filing 
leap,  not  a  bit  to  the  discomfiture  of 
the  gay  girls. 

Maj.  Hill  had  put  up  a  frame  house, 
but  the  hearths  and  the  lower  half  of 
the  chimney  were  of  stone,  the  upper 
being  topped  out  with  slabs  filled  in 
with  clay.  There  was  a  stoue  oven, 
though  light  could  be  discerned  through 
a  chink  in  the  back,  there  was  plenty 
of  wood  to  heat  it  and.it  baked  well. 

Bolts  had  not  been  set  in  the  grist 
mill.  The  wheat  flour  for  the  nicest 
cooking  was  sifted  through  a  fine  hair 
seive,  but  the  bread  for  common  use 
was  stirred  up  from  the  coarse  flour,  and 
no  lighter,  sweeter,  or  more  wholesome 
bread  was  never  tasted.  As  there 
were  no  apples,  in  the  early  summer, 
before  the  wild  fruit  came,  pies  were 


made  from  young  sorrel  leaves,  which 
were  considered  very  nice. 

Though  the  nearest  neighbor  was  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  the  winter 
passed  cheerfully.  The  Indians  were 
frequent  guests,  and  were  received 
with  kindly  hospitality.  Their  unique 
appearance,  broken  English,  original 
ideas  and  untutored  manners,  were  a 
never  failing  source  of  interest  and 
amusement. 

The  next  spring,  1809,  Maj.  Hill 
built  a  brick  chimnej:  in  his  house,  the 
brick  hearths  were  the  first  in  the 
towhship. 

The  settlement  was  increased  by  the 
arrival  of  Dr.  Wilkins.  his  wife  and 
five  children,  from  Billerica.  The 
next  }rear  the  Rev.  Samuel  May  and 
his  family,  moved  thither  from  Boston. 
The  clergyman  came  as  a  missionary 
for  that  part  of  the  District,  preaching 
in  Brownville  on  alternate  sabbaths. 
About  the  same  time  a  lawyer,  Col. 
Kinsman,  with  his  sons  John  and  Hen- 
ry came  to  the  place  from  Waterville. 

During  the  winter  Miss  Bailey  made 
herself  generally  useful ;  in  the  spring, 
Maj.  Hill  fitted  a  room  for  a  school, 
and  installed  his  niece  as  instructress 
of  the  children  scattered  far  and  wide 
amid  the  woods.  The  gidd}-  young 
girl  proved  an  excellent  teacher,  elcit- 
ing  the  affection  of  her  pupils  and  the 
respect  of  their  parents.  Money  was 
scarce  in  this  primitive  settlement,  the 
school-mistress  had  no  regular  salary, 
but  she  received  several  handsome 
presents,  amongst  which  was  a  nice 
dress,  and  a  muff  and  tippett  of  rich 
fur. 

I  recall  how  the  afternoon's  mirth 
was  increased  at  tea.  by  the  wry  faces 
made  by  my  j-ouugest  brother,  Joseph 
Little,  over  a  dish  of  ale  wives.  From 


OF   A 


Ill 


its  earliest  settlement,  fishing  had  been 

business  in  the  town.  Fishing 
grounds  were  laid  out,  which  were  pri- 
vate propert}'.  I  have  the  deed  of  one 
that  descended  to  David  Emery  from 
his  grandfather  John  Emery. 

Our  neighbor,  Hannah  Pillsbury,  had 
some  years  previous,  married  Mr. 
Abraham  Brown,  of  Byfield.  Left  a 
widow  while  her  children  were  still 
young.  Mrs.  Brown  returned  to  the  pa- 
ternal roof,  bringing  with  her  five  sons, 
two  of  which  were  twins.  The  Brown 
boys  and  my  brothers  were  intimate 
companions. 

That  afternoon  Joe.  and  his  crony. 
Oliver  Brown,  had  been  to  the  river  to 
look  at  the  fishing,  and  each  had  re- 
ceived a  bunch  of  alewives.  Highly 
delighted,  Joe.  dressed  his  for  supper. 
Father  told  him  that  they  were  so  bony 
he  would  not  eat  them,  but  to  gratify  her 
son,  mother  fried  the  fish.  The  lad 
sat  down  to  the  table  with  a  keen  ap- 
petite, but  soon  concluded  that  alewives 
were  not  exactly  the  thing  for  a  hungry 
man  to  eat  in  a  hurry. 

In  1808  Dr.  Woods  accepted  an  in- 
vitation to  preside  over  the  Theological 
Seminary  at  Andover.  This  institution 
had  found  munificient  patrons  in  two 
citizens  of  Newburyport, —  Mr.  Moses 
Brown,  and  William  Bartlett  Esq.  Mr. 
Bartlett  had  been  enthusiastically  zeal- 
ous in  its  establishment,  an  interest 
which  continued  to  the  end  of  life.  Dr. 
Woods'  departure  was  deplored  by  his 
friends,  their  grief  however  was  assuag- 
ed by  the  pride  and  pleasure  experi- 
enced, at  their  favorite's  advancement  in 
place  and  honor.  Aunt  Ruth  Little 
could  scarcely  reconcile  herself  to  the 
change,  but  aunt  Jud}'  Dole  said,  "Let 
him  go  ;  he  was  fitter  for  a  Pope  to  that 
new  Hopkinsian  college,  than  for  a  coun- 


try parson.  She  was  willing  to  throw" 
all  her  old  shoes  after  him  for  good 
luck."  Several  years  elapsed  without 
a  settled  minister.  The  pulpit  was 
mostly  supplied  from  the  Andover  Sem- 
inar}*. Amongst  these  young  men  were 
the  afterwards  distinguished  missiona- 
ries, Messrs  Newell  and  Judson.  A 
great  commotion  had  arisen  in  the  par- 
ish respecting  the  meeting-house.  The 
old  building  had  become  dilapidated, 
almost  unfit  for  use.  Every  one  conce- 
ded the  necessity  of  a  new  house,  but 
its  site  was  the  bone  of  contention. 
Some,  mostly  the  more  elderly  members 
of  the  society,  were  desirous  to  retain 
the  old  location, —  their  plea  being  that 
it  was  exactly  in  the  centre  of  the  par- 
ish :  the  others  very  wiseby  objected  to 
climbing  the  almost  inaccessible  hill 
upon  which  the  old  structure  was  perch- 
ed, urging  that  it  would  be  better  for  a 
few  to  go  a  slight  distance  farther  on 
level  ground,  than  all  to  climb  the  high 
and  steep  eminence.  Agreement  could 
not  be  reached.  The  old  meeting-house 
grew  worse  and  worse,  snow  drifted  in 
at  winter,  and  rain  dripped  through  the 
cracks  and  crevices  in  summer,  still  the 
contrary  parties  could  not  be  brought 
to  agree,  people  went  to  meeting  be- 
cause it  was  customary  and  considered 
sinful  to  remain  at  home,  but  there  was 
a  sad  lack  of  interest  and  union  in  the 
parish  for  quite  a  period. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

My  ancestors,  with  the  exception  of 
the  Johnson  branch,  came  to  Newbury 
either  in  the  band  that  accompanied 
Messers  Parker  and  Noyes  from  Aga- 


112 


REMINISCENCES 


warn  to  Quascacunquen  in  the  year 
1635,  or  joined  the  settlement  soon  af- 
ter. From  the  Noj-es  grandmother, 
am  descended  from  the  Rev.  James 
No}-es,  whose  brother  Nicholas,  tradi- 
tion asserts,  was  the  first  to  leap  on 
shore  when  the  emigrants  landed.  This 
spot  is  supposed  to  be  on  the  north 
side  of  the  river  Parker,  near  the  pres- 
ent bridge,  and  the  colonists  located 
about  the  lower  green,  Oldtown,  where 
the  first  meeting-house  was  built. 
Thomas  Parker,  the  pastor,  was  born 
in  Wiltshire,  England,  in  1595 ;  he 
was  the  only  son  of  Robert  Parker,  an 
eminent  scholar  and  an  active  non- 
conformist. The  Noyes  family  are  of 
Norman  descent ;  originally  the  name 
was  spelt  Noye.  From  the  conquest 
the  race  have  been  distinguished  for 
influence  and  scholarship.  In  14  and 
15  Hen.  VIII,  William  Noyes,  of  Ereh- 
fort,  was  assessed  for  the  subsidy  at 
£80,  and  paid  £4  3'early.  In  1540  he 
became  possessed  of  the  prebend  of 
^rchfort  with  its  dependencies,  and 
died  in  1557,  leaving  a  considerable 
property  to  a  large'  family,  of  whom 
John  was  M.  P.  for  Laine,  A.  D.,  1600, 
and  Robert  the  elder,  who  succeeded  to 
the  prebend,  having  purchased  in  1574 
for  his  eldest  son,  Robert,  the  manor 
and  estate  of  King's  Hatherdene,  in 
Weghill  near  Andover.  His  cousin, 
Peter  Noyes,  was  also  of  Weghill  and 
Andover  of  Berks,  in  which  county, 
for  many  generations  his  descendants 
owned  the  estate  of  Trunkwell,  in  the 
parish  of  Springfield,  acquired  b}-  a 
marriage  with  Agnes,  daughter  and 
heiress  of  John  Noyes  of  that  place  who 
died  in  1607.  Peter  Noyes  had  a  sec- 
ond son  Richard,  and  a  daughter,  Joice, 
married  to  the  Rev.  Robert  Wield,  D.  D. 
James  Noyes,  the  teacher^  at  Quasca- 


cunquen, was  born  in  Choulderton, 
Wiltshire,  England,  in  1608.  His 
father  was  a  minister  in  the  same  town, 
a  gentleman  of  superior  ability  and  ed- 
ucation. His  mother  was  a  sister  of 
the  learned  Robert  Parker.  Mr.  Noyes 
was  educated  at  Oxford,  and  for  a  time 
previous  to  his  emigration  to  America, 
he  was  associated  with  his  cousin, 
Thomas  Parker,  in  teaching  at  New- 
bury,  where  Mr.  Parker  preached.  In 
honor  of  these  gentlemen,  the  settle- 
ment received  the  name  of  Newbury. 
In  1634,  shortly  before  leaving  his  na- 
tive land.  Mr.  Noyes  was  married  to 
Sarah,  eldest  daughter  of  Joseph  Brown 
of  Southampton.  He  had  six  sons, 
and  three  daughters  ;  Sarah,  who  died 
at  the  age  of  eleven,  Rebecca,  and  a 
second  Sarah.  Through  life  the  cous- 
ins, Parker  and  Noyes,  continued  in 
the  closest  intimacy.  The}'  taught  in 
the  same  school  in  England,  came  to 
America  in  the  same  ship,  were  pastor 
and  teacher  in  the  same  church,  and  as 
Mr.  Parker  remained  a  bachelor,  they 
lived  in  the  same  house.  For  a  few 
}-ears  after  the  settlement  of  the  town 
their  residence  was  on  the  west  side  of 
the  lower  green,  but  on  the  removal  of 
the  meeting-house,  Mr.  Noj-es  built  a 
house  in  1646,  or  soon  after,  which  is 
still  standing  on  Parker  street, —  a  fine 
old  fashioned  mansion,  still  owned  and 
occupied  by  the  clergyman's  descend- 
ants. A  lot  of  salt  meadow,  willed  by 
Mr.  Parker  to  his  Noyes  relatives,  has 
never  been  bought  nor  sold,  but  through 
the  descending  generations  has  succes- 
sively passed  from  father  to  son.  The 
Rev.  James  Noj'es  died  in  the  forty- 
eighth  year  of  his  age,  Oct.  22d,  1656. 
His  character  is  thus  delineated  by  Mr. 
Parker : 

"Mr.  James  Noyes  my  worthy  col- 


OF    A   NONAGENARIAN. 


113 


league  in  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  was 
a  man  of  singular  qualifications,  in  piety 
excelling,  an  implacable  enemy  to  all 
heresy  and  schism  and  a  most  able  war- 
rior against  the  same.  He  was  of  a 
reaching  and  ready  apprehension,  a 
large  invention,  a  most  profound  judg- 
ment, a  rare,  tenacious  and  comprehen- 
sive memory,  fixed  and  immovable  in 
his  well  grounded  conceptions,  sure  in 
words  and  speech,  without  rashness, 
gentle  and  mild  in  all  expressions,  with- 
out passion  or  provoking  language,  and 
as  he  Avas  a  notable  disputant  so  he 
never  would  provoke  his  adversary,  sav- 
ing by  the  short  knocks  and  heavy- 
weight of  argument.  He  was  of  so 
loving,  compassionate  and  humble  car- 
riage that  I  believe  never  any  were  ac- 
quainted with  him,  but  did  desire 
the  continuance  of  his  society  and  ac- 
quaintance. He  was  a  most  excellent 
counsellor  in  doubts,  and  could  strike 
at  a  hair's  breadth  like  the  Benjamites 
and  expedite  the  entangled  out  of  the 
briars.  He  was  courageous  in  dangers 
and  still  was  apt  to  believe  the  best, 
and  make  fair  weather  in  a  storm.  He 
was  much  honored  and  esteemed  in  the 
country,  and  his  death  was  much  be- 
wailed. I  think  that  he  may  be  reckoned 
among  the  greatest  worthies  of  the 
age." 

Joseph,  oldest  son  of  the  Rev.  James 
Noyes,  born  Oct.  15th,  1637,  remained 
in  Xewbury,  where,  for  a  number  of 
years,  he  was  one  of  the  selectmen.  He 
died  in  1717. 

James,  the  second  son,  born  March 
llth,  1640;  graduated  at  Harvard  in 
1659  ;  was  a  preacher  in  Stonington, 
Conn.,  in  1668;  was  ordained  there 
Sept.  10th.  1G76,  and  died  Dec.  1719, 
after  a  ministry  of  over  fifty  years. 

Moses,  the  third  son,  was  born  Dec. 


6th,  1643  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in 
1659 ;  he  was  the  first  minister  in 
Lyme,  Conn.,  where  he  died  Nov. 
10th,  1726. 

John,  the  fourth  son,  born  June  3d, 
1645  ;  was  a  member  of  the  Ancient 
and  Honorable  Artillery  Company,  Bos- 
ton. 

Col.  Thomas,  the  fifth  son,  born 
Aug.  10th,  1648 ;  remained  in  New- 
bury  where  he  was  a  prominent'citizen, 
representing  the  town  in  the  General 
Court. 

William,  the  sixth  son,  born  Sept. 
22d,  1653,  married  Sara  Cogswell,  Nov. 
6th,  1685.  Children  :  John,  born  July 
27th,  1686,  William,  born  Sept.  1st, 
1688;  Sarah,  born  May  10th,  1691, 
and  died  Dec.  3d,  1703  ;  Moses,  born 
Jan.  27th,  1694,  and  died  Feb.  16th; 
Susanna,  born  Feb.  25th,  1696  ;  Mary, 
born  May  24th,  1699,  and  died  Dec. 
16th,  1703 ;  Sarah,  born  Dec.  5th, 
1703  ;  Parker,  born  Jan.  17th,  1705. 

John,  oldest  son  of  William  and 
Sara  (Cogswell,)  Noyes,  married  Tab- 
itha  Dole,  and  moved  to  the  West 
Precinct,  Newbury,  where  he  became 
a  leading  citizen  and  deacon  of  the 
church ;  his  estate  was  on  the  main 
road  near  the  Bradford  line.  Children 
were :  William,  Sara,  Elizabeth,  and 
Parker,  who  died  in  childhood.  Wil- 
liam married  Lydia  Morse  ;  their  chil- 
dren were :  Timothy,  who  married 
Betty  Dean,  Enoch,  who  married  Sarah 
Emery,  John,  who  married  Elizabeth 
Pillislmry,  and  Molly,  who  married 
Webster  Bailey. 

Sara,  the  oldest  daughter  of  deacon 
Noyes,  remained  single ;  Elizabeth, 
the  second  daughter,  married  Capt. 
James  Smith  of  Crane-neck  hill — her 
second  husband  was  Capt.  Edmund 
Little. 

15 


114 


REMINISCENCES 


Mr.  Nicholas  Xoyes,  brother  of 
Rev.  James  Xoyes,  was  born  in  1614; 
he  married  Mary  Cutting.  :i  sister  of 
Capt.  John  Cutting  who  came  from 
London  to  Charlestown,  thence  to  Xew- 
buiy  about  1642.  Their  children  were, 
Mary,  bora  Oct.  loth.  1641.  married 
John  French.  Hannah,  born  Oct. 
31st,  1643,  married  Peter  Cheney, 
May  14th.  1663.  2d,  John  Atkinson, 
born  June  3d.  1700.  died  Jan.  5th. 
1705.  John,  born  Jan.  20th,  1646, 
married  Mary  Poor.  Xov  13th.  1668, 
died  in  1691.  Rev.  Nicholas,  born  Dec. 
22d.  1647,  died  unmarried.  Cutting, 
born  Sept.  23d.  1649.  married  Eliza- 
beth Knight;  died  Oct.  25th,  1734. 
Sarah,  born  Sept.  13th.  1651.  died 
Feb.  20th.  1652.  Sarah,  born  Aug. 
22d.  1653.  married  Matthew  Pettingel, 
April  13th.  1674.  Timothy,  bom 
June  23d.  1655.  married  Mary  Knight. 
Jan.  13th,  1680  ;  died  in  1 710.  James, 
born  May  15th,  1657.  married  Hannah 
Knight.  March  31st.  16x4  :  died  in 
1723.  Abigail,  born  April.  1657.  mar- 
ried Simeon  French  of  Salisbury.  May 
8th,  1707.  Rachel,  born  March  20th. 
1661 ,  married  James  Jackman.  Thom- 
as, bom  June  20th.  1663.  married  Sa- 
rah   ,  lived  in  Ilaverhill.  and 

died  previous  to  Dec.  30th,  1695.  Re- 
becca, born  May  18th,  1665.  died  Dec. 
21st,  1683. 

Mr.  Xoyes  was  one  of  the  most  in- 
fluential members  of  the  infant  settle- 
ment, representing  it  in  the  General 
Court,  and  was  also  a  deacon  of  the 
church.  He  died  Xov.  23d.  1701. 
aged  83. 

Hannah,  the  wife  of  James  Xoyes. 
was  the  daughter  of  John  Knight,  jun.. 
son  of  John  Knight,  who  with  his 
brother,  Deacon  Richard  Knight,  came 
from  Romsey,  England,  to  Newbury, 


in  1635.  Their  children  were :  Re- 
becca, born  Jan.  12th.  1685;  Joseph. 
born  Sept.  20th.  1686:  Hannah,  born 
March  13th.  1688  ;  Nicholas,  born  Feb. 
9th.  1690.  Nathan,  born  Feb.  5th, 
1692  :  Ephraim.  born  Xov.  20th  and 
died  Dec.  19th,  1694;  Lydia,  born 
Xov.  30th.  1695;  Ephraim,  born  Dec. 
25th.  1698  ;  Benjamin,  bora  Feb.  22d, 
•1701;  Mary,  born  March  13th.  1703: 
James,  born  Aug.  19th.  1705. 

Capt.  Ephraim  Xoyes.  fifth  son  of 
James  and  Hannah  (Knight)  Xoyes. 
settled  on  the  main  road,  in  the  West 
Precinct.  Xewbury :  he  married  Abi- 
gail, daughter  of  Jonas  and  Anne 
Platts.  and  granddaughter  of  Deacon 
Joseph  Bailey,  of  Bradford.  Edna. 
daughter  of  Capt  Ephraim  and  Abigail 
(Platts)  Xoyes.  April  7th.  1756.  mar 
riecl  John,  son  of  David  and  Abigail 
(Chase)  Emery. 

The  children  of  John  and  Mary 
(Poor)  Xoyes  were :  Xicholas.  born 
May  18th,  1671,  married  Sarah  Lunt. 
and  settled  in  Abington  before  1718. 
Daniel,  born  Oct.  23d.  1673.  married 
Judith  Knight,  Dec.  29th.  1702:  died 
March  13th.  1716.  Mary,  born  Dec. 
1  Oth.  1675.  married  John  Xoyes.  John, 
born  Feb.  19th.  1677.  married  Ma- 
ry Thurlow.  Jan.  25th.  1703:  died 
previous  to  Xov.  2d.  1719.  Martha, 
born  Dec.  24th.  1679.  married  Jo.-eph 
Lunt.  Dec.  29th.  1702:  died  June 
26th,  1706.  Nathaniel,  born  Oct. 
28th..  1681.  married  Priscilla  Merrill; 
was  inFalrnouth.  1733.  Elizabeth,  born 
Nov.  llth.  1684.  Moses,  born  May 
22d,  1688.  died  in  1714.  Samuel. 
born  Feb.  3d,  1692.  married  Hannah 
Poor;  lived  in  Abington  previous  to 
1736. 

The  children  of  Daniel  and  Judith 
(Knight)  Noyes  were :  Daniel,  born 


OF    A 


115 


Oct.  16th,  1703,  married  Abigail  Top- 
pan;  died  April  16th,  1765.  Joseph, 
born  Aug.  6th,  1705,  married  Elizabeth 
Woodman.  Xov.  10th,  1726 ;  died 
Sept.  loth,  1781.  Joshua,  born  Jan. 
26th.  1707.  married  Sarah  Hale.  April 
7th.  1730;  died  Jan.  1808.  John, 
born  May  9th,  1709,  married  Ann 
Woodbridge ;  died  Aug.  13th,  1759. 
Mary,  born  Nov.  24th.  1710,  died 
Aug.  1794.  Deborah,  born  May  22d, 
1713.  married  Jacob  Knight.  Judith, 
born  Jan.  7th,  1715,  married  Benjamin 
Poor. 

The  children  of  Daniel  and  Abigail 
(Toppan)  No}~es  were:  Abigail,  born 
Dec.  28th,  1728,  died  Aug.  3d  1731. 
Daniel,  born  Nov.  7th,  1730,  died 
June  13th,  1735.  Zebulon,  - 
died  June  llth,  1735.  Samuel,  born 
April  25th,  1737,  married  Rebecca 
Wheeler;  died  April  1st,  1820.  Eb- 
enezer,  born  in  1739,  married  Hannah 
Chase;  died  Aug.  1767. 

Mary  and  John,  twins,  born  March, 
1741.  Maiy  married,  first,  Samuel 
Somerby,  second,  Nathaniel  Dole  ;  John 
married,  first,  Sarah  Little ;  second. 
Mary  Pierce;  died  July  18th,  1778. 
Abigail,  born  Oct.  5th,  1744,  married 
Joseph  Moulton ;  died  Sept.  18th, 
1818.  Judith,  born  Nov.  1747,  died 
Oct.  1832. 

The  children  of  Samuel  and  Rebecca 
(Wheeler)  Noyes  were :  Daniel,  born 
Oct.  22d,  1765,  died  Dec.  5th,  1768, 
Samuel,  born  May  25th,  1767,  married, 
first,  Jane  Moody,  Jan.  22d,  1795  ;  she 
died  Nov.  13th,  1802  ;  second,  Han- 
nah, youngest  daughter  of  Joseph  Lit- 
tle, and  widow  of  James  Stickney.  who 
died  Jan.  17th,  1805.  Samuel  Noyes 
died  July  12th,  1852,  and  his  widow. 
Hannah  Noyes,  died  March  1st,  1861. 
Rebecca,  born  April,  1769.  Ebenezer, 


born  April  26th,  1771,  died  June  16th, 

1794,  in  the   West    Indies.      Judith, 
born  July  13th,  1773,  died  July  17th, 
1777.     Daniel,    born    .May   6th.    1775, 
died  Jan.  7th,  1777.     Dr.  Nathan,  born 
April  3d,  1777,  died  Sept.  1842.     Ju- 
dith,   born   Feb.     7th,    1779.    married 
William  Moulton  ;  died  Oct.  1822. 

Rev.  Nicholas  Noyes,  graduated  at 
Harvard  1667,  preached  in  Haddam, 
Conn.,  thirteen  years,  ordained  over 
the  first  society  in  Salem,  Nov.  14th, 
1683,  and  died  Dec.  13th,  1717. 

Rev.  Edmund  Noj'es,  born  March 
29th,  1729,  graduated  at  Harvard  1747, 
was  ordained  in  Salisbury  Nov.  20th, 
1751,  and  died  July  12th,  1809. 

Ebeuezer  Noyes,  born  in  1739,  grad- 
uated at  Nassau  Hall  in  1750,  was  a 
physician  in  Dover,  where  he  died  Aug. 
llth,  1767. 

Rev.  Nathaniel  Noyes,  born  Aug. 
12th,  1735,  graduated  at  Nassau  Hall 
in  1759,  was  ordained  in  South  Hamp- 
ton, N.  H.,  Feb.  23d,  1763,  dismissed 
Dec.  8th,  1800,  and  died  in  Newbury- 
port  Dec.  1810.  Sarah,  consort 
of  the  Rev.  Nathaniel  Noyes,  died  in 
South  Hampton,  May  20th,  1771,  aged 
25  years,  8  months. 

Rev.  Thomas  Noyes,  son  of  Col. 
Thomas  No3res  of  the  west  parish, 
Newbur}7,  graduated  at  Harvard  in 

1795,  and  died  young. 

Nathan  Noyes,  M.  D.,  graduated  at 
Dartmouth,  a  physician  at  Newbury- 
port. 

Rev.  Jeremiah  Noyes,  graduated  at 
Dartmouth  in  1799,  ordained  Nov.  16, 
1803,  in  Gorham,  Maine,  and  died 
Jan.  15th,  LS07. 

Moody  Noyes,  Harvard,  1800,  died 
young. 

Daniel  Noyes,  born  Jan.  29th,  1739, 


116 


REMIXISCEXCES 


graduated    at    Harvard   in    1758. 
register  of  probate  for  Essex,  and  died 
in  Ipswich  March  21st,  1815. 

Joshua  Xoyes,  born  1739,  graduated 
at  Nassau  in  1759  ;  was  pastor  elect  of 
the  church  in  Kingston,  X.  H.,  and 
died  July  8th,  1773,  aged  34. 

John  Xoyes,  born  May  9,  1709, 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  175:5.  and 
died  Aug.  13th,  1759. 

Rev.  George  Rappall  Xoyes,  born 
March  6th,  1798.  graduated  at  Har- 
vard in  1818  ;  was  ordained  in  South 
Brookfield,  Mass.,  Oct.  30th,  1827; 
resettled  in  Petersham  Oct.  loth,  1834. 
Elected  professor  in  the  Divinity  school, 
Cambridge,  in  1840.  Received  the  de- 
gree of  D.  D.  the  same  year.  He  died 
June  3d,  1868,  aged  70  years  and  3 
months.  Of  Dr.  Xo3-es  the  late  Thom- 
as B.  Fox  thus  wrote  : 

"  His  outward  life  was  that  of  a  stu- 
dent and  teacher  mainly,  and  so  pre- 
sented out  few  incidents  or  events  to 
break  the  even  tenor  of  its  way ;  but 
by  his  Christian  character,  his  learning 
and  his  intellectual  usefulness  to  his 
pupils  and  to  the  cause  of  sacred  liter- 
ature, he  won  the  love,  respect  and 
gratitude  of  all  who  knew  him,  as  well 
as  the  esteem  of  such  as  were  only  fa- 
miliar with  him  as  an  author  who  had 
helped  them  in  their  inquiries  after 
truth.  Dr.  Xoyes  graduated  in  the 
class  of  1818  which  gave  fourteen  of 
its  members  to  the  ministry.  For  sev- 
eral years  he  was  pastor  of  the  churches 
at  South  Brookfield  and  Petersham, 
but  the  greater  portion  of  his  days  was 
spent  in  the  service  of  his  Alma  Mater 
as  tutor  in  the  college  and  as  a  profes- 
sor on  two  foundations  in  the  Divinity 
school.  He  first  attracted  public  atten- 
tion by  his  translation  of  the  book  of 
Job  —  a  work  that  was  followed  In- 


versions of  the  Psalms  and  the  Proph- 
ets. Besides  these  more  elaborate  pro- 
ductions, he  was  a  contributor  of  learn- 
ed and  critical  articles  to  the  Christian 
Examiner.  He  was  one  of  the  most 
diligent  and  accurate  of  scholars,  and 
everything  that  came  from  his  pen 
showed  the  conscientious  fidelity,  the 
pure,  lucid,  calm  productions  of  a  mind 
seeking  always  to  be  judicially  impar- 
tial in  its  investigations  and  in  the 
statement  of  its  conclusions.  His 
scholarship  was  large  and  thorough, 
and  his  industry  unwearied  and  unre- 
mitted  even  through  seasons  of  physi- 
cal weakness  and  distress. 

Up  almost  to  the  hour  of  his  decease, 
he  ^Yas  engaged  in  correcting  with 
sedulous  care  the  closing  proof  sheets 
of  a  translation  of  the  Xew  Testa- 
ment. The  strength  and  clearness  of 
his  mental  powers,  the  candor  and 
fearlessness  of  his  moral  nature,  the 
generosit}'  and  justice  of  his  liberality, 
will  be  acknowledged  by  all  who  had 
the  privilege  of  listening  to  his  explana- 
tory defence  of  the  Cam-bridge  Theolog- 
ical School,  at  the  last  meeting  of  the 
Alumni  of  that  institution.  His  address 
on  that  occasion  obtained  a  solemn  im- 
pression from  his  bodily  infirmity,  which 
had  not  dimmed  the  healthful  bright- 
ness of  his  mind,  or  chilled  the  warmth 
of  his  heart.  He  spoke  as  it  were  on 
the  border  of  the  grave,  and  he  spoke 
as  one  who  humbly  but  trustfully 
awaited  a  judgment  more  searching 
than  any  human  judgment  can  be.  We 
allude  to  this,  his  last  public  discourse, 
because  in  it  were  seen  the  trained 
thinker,  the  honest  and  catholic  man, 
and  the  faithful  Christian  teacher ;  the 
culmination  as  it  were,  of  a  life  of 
many  virtues  and  graces,  consecrated 
to  learning  and  to  the  highest  interesst 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


117 


of  humanity ;  a  life  none  the  less  use- 
ful, noble,  and  brave,  because  mostly 
passed  in  the  study,  the  lecture  room, 
and  inthe  retirement  of  comparative  pri- 
vacy, away  from  the  bustle  of  the  world 
and  unattended  by  circumstances  that 
attract  the  public  gaze.  Such  a  life 
could  not  but  win  the  reverent  regard  of 
all  who  witnessed  and  were  benefited  b}* 
it,  and  the  memory  of  him  who  lived  it, 
will  be  cherished  as  the  memory  of  a 
disciple  who  uniformly  sought  to  use 
the  talents  intrusted  to  him,  as  one 
who  never  forgot  that  he  must  give  an 
account  of  his  stewardship." 

The  following  is  a  tribute  from  Dr. 
W.  W.  Newell.  '  'The  death  of  a  work- 
er in  the  quiet  paths  of  science  is 
scarcely  noticed  by  the  world ;  and  yet 
few  men  of  more  active  life  ma}'  have 
exercised  so  deep  an  influence  ; — so  it 
was  with  the  late  George  R.  Noyes, 
D.  D.  For  more  than  twenty  years  his 
was  the  leading  mind  in  the  Divinity 
school  at  Cambridge,  and  did  more  than 
an}-  other  to  form  the  minds  of  the  stu- 
dents, who  will  alwaj-s  cherish  his  name 
with  love.  It  was  from  him  they  ac- 
quired the  scientific  spirit,  patient, 
calm,  impartial ;  in  him  the}-  saw  the 
example  of  a  truly  devotional  mind, 
combined  with  the  most  searching  anal- 
ysis ;  they  learned  to  respect  his  prac- 
tical wisdom,  and  to  receive  his  opin- 
ions almost  as  oracles.  Such  homage 
from  young,  free,  and  independent 
minds  implies  great  qualities.  They 
were  sure'  no  word  would  fall  from  his 
lips  not  thoroughly  weighed  and  tested. 
They  could  trust  a  moderation  which, 
always  forbore  to  dogmatize,  and  to 
express  even  an  opinion  on  doubtful 
questions,  however  fascinating  the  temp- 
tation to  leap  an  unbridged  chasm,  and 
when  he  did  express  an  opinion  they 


knew  it  was  no  result  of  individual 
preference,  or  of  dogmatic  assumption 
but  honest  fruit  of  the  widest  compar- 
ison and  the  strictest  inquiry.  In  his 
own  department,  the  exegesis  of  the 
Scriptures,  his'  scholars  believed  him 
unapproached  in  America.  Few  could 
hear  him  and  not  admit  that  Biblical 
interpretation  was  now  a  science  whose 
principles  were  fixed,  and  that  the  vast 
difference  of  results  arise  far  more  from 
the  different  opinions  brought  to  the 
study,  than  from  the  difficulty  of  the 
subject.  His  translation  of  the  poeti- 
cal books  of  the  Old  Testament  is,  we 
believe,  the  best  in  an}-  language,  com- 
bining a  correct  interpretation  with  the 
spirit  of  the  original.  His  lectures  il- 
lustrated to  an  even  greater  degree  the 
high  qualities  of  his  mind, — his  great 
shrewdness,  profound  scholarship,  and 
freedom  from  prejudice.  But  opinions, 
which  he  arrived  at  b^y  individual 
study,  and  held  when  they  were  little 
supported  and  indeed  almost  unknown 
in  this  country,  have  since  become 
widely  prevalent  among  scholars  every- 
where. With  these  virtues  of  the 
scholar  he  combined  keen  wit,  and 
great  kindness  and  tolerance.  His  stu- 
dents did  not  admire  him  more  than 
they  reverenced  him ;  and  his  whole 
life  was  in  his  work.  No  one  could 
hear  him  in  prayer  and  not  revere  his 
profoundly  religious  spirit,  and  wonder 
at  such  a  union  of  qualities.  No  man 
lives  who  can  fill  the  place  he  took  in 
health  ;  and,  if  in  life  the  general  ig- 
norance and  prejudice  in  regard  to 
these  subjects  prevented  general  recog- 
nition of  his  merits,  in  the  history  of 
mind  his  name  will  stand  among  the 
first  of  American  students  who  brought 
a  scientific  treatment  to  this  branch  of 
inquiry.  In  the  minds  of  his  students 


118 


REMXNTSCElSrCES 


his  memory  will  always  live  and  his  in- 
fluence always  work." 

Francis  V.  Noyes,  born  Sept.  22cl, 
1809,  graduated  at  Dartmouth,  receiv- 
ed the  degree  of  M.  D.  at  Harvard 
Aug.  1831.  He  was  a  physician  in 
Newburyport  until  1844,  and  at  present 
is  a  resident  of  Billerica. 

Rev.  Daniel  Parish  Noyes,  born 
June  4th,  1820,  graduated  Aug.  1840, 
at  Yale  College.  Taught  school  till 
1843;  was  a  tutor  in  Yale  till  1847; 
student  at  Andover  till  1849  ;  pastor 
of  the  3d  Presbyterian  church.  Brook- 
lyn, X.  Y.,  from  April  1849,  till  Jan. 
1854.  Secretary  of  the  American 
Home  Missionary  Society  from  Jan. 
1854,  till  June,  1865.  Secretary  of 
Home  Evangelization  in  Massachusetts 
from  Jan.  1865,  till  1873.  While  prose- 
cuting this  work,  he  founded  a  church  at 
Pigeon  Cove,  Cape  Ann,  acting  as  pas- 
tor for  a  time  ;  Oct.  1877  was  install- 
ed pastor  of  a  church  in  Wilmington. 

Joseph  M.  Xoyes,  a  distinguished 
teacher,  and  Henry  Durant  Xoyes  of 
the  firm  of  Xoyes,  Snow  and  Co.,  pub- 
lishers, 13^  Bromfield  street,  Boston. 
These  are  grandsons  of  the  Rev.  Elijah 
Parish.  Isaac  Parsons  Xoyes,  born 
Dec.  10th,  1822  ;  appointed  assistant 
postmaster  at  Xewburyport,  June  19th, 
1861  ;  appointed  postmaster  May  2d, 
1877  ;  served  on  the  board  of  overseers 
of  the  poor  three  }*ears,  in  the  common 
council  one  year,  secretary  of  school 
board  six  years,  re-elected  on  school 
committee  in  1878  for  two  years. 
William  Henry  Xoyes,  D.  M.  D.,  born 
in  Xewbury,  July  28,  1825  ;  graduated 
at  Harvard  University  in  dental  medi- 
cine, March  9th,  1870 ;  married  Mav 
14,  1848,  Sarah  M.  Parshley  of  Straf- 
ford,  X.  H.,  Children:  Ella  Ada; 
Earnest  Henry,  born  Xov.  20th,  1853  ; 


graduated  at  •  Bowdoin  College  July 
8th  1875,  now  studjing  medicine  at  Har- 
vard. 

George  E.  L.  Xoyes,  D.  M.  D.,  son 
of  Greo.  W.  Xoyes,  born  in  Xewbury- 
port Aug.  28th,  1850,  graduated  at 
Harvard  University  in  dental  medicine 
March  10,  1872 ;  married  Xov.  27, 
1878,  Mary  Hill  Goodwin  of  Xewbury- 
port, daughter  of  Daniel  A.  Goodwin. 


CHAFTER  XXIX. 

•'  Whence  cometh  Smith,  be  he  knight  or  be    he 

squire, 
But  from  the  Smith  that  forgeth  at  the  fire." 

The  arms  of  Smith,  granted  in  some 
remote  age  to  some  meritorious  Mack- 
smith,  are  : 


SABLE,  ON  A  FESSE  DAXCETTE  ARGENT  SEVEN'  BILLETS 

OP  THE  FIELD.      CREST,  A  SALAMANDER  COUCH ANT 

REGARDANT,  DUCALLY  GORGED,  IN  FLAMES 

FBOPKB. 

From  the  settlement  on  Crane-neck 
hill  four  generations  bearing  the  name 
of  James  Smith  have  succeeded  each 
other  on  the  homestead,  and  two  pre- 
ceded them  at  Old  town,  making  six  in 
America.  The  first  of  this  patroi^-mic 
of  whom  I  have  record  were  Sir  James 


The  Noyes  arms  are 


ARGENT,  GARB   OR,  THREE    MULLETS    GULES    COUNTERCHANGED.      CREST. — DOVE    BEARING   OLIVE   BRANCH. 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


119 


Smith,  the  first  baronet  of  Isfield,  who 
was  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  James  Smith 
Knt.,  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in  1685, 
who  was  the  second  son  of  Sir  Robert 
Smith,  of  Upton,  Bart.,  who  descend- 
ed from  Robert  Smith,  citizen  and  dra- 
per of  London  and  Stoke  Prior  in  Wor- 
cestershire. This  Robert  belonged  to 
an  ancient  family,  the  Smiths  of  Cuerd- 
le}',  in  Lancaster.  Robert  Smith  and 
his  descendants  Sir  Robert,  Sir  James 
the  Knt.,  and  Sir  James  the  Baronet, 
bore  arms : 

AZl.'RE,    TWO   BARS   WAVY   ERMINE    ON   A   CHIEF    OK,    A 

DEMI-LION    RAMPANT   1SSITANT    SABLE.      CHEST  — 

AN   OSTRICH  GULES,   IN   THE   BEAK  A 

HORSE   SHOE    ARGENT. 

This  coat  was  confirmed  by  Flower 
Norroy  on  the  7th  of  July,  1579,  to 
Thomas  Smith,  son  and  heir  of  Sir 
Laurence  Smith  of  Hough.  Motto : 
Duriora  virtus  —  Virtue  tries  harder 
things. 

The  same  arms  were  borne  by  Fer- 
dinando  Dudle}'  Lea  Smith,  esq.,  great 
grandson  of  William  Smith  of  Stoke 
Prior,  County  Worcester  by  the  Hon. 
Anne  Lea,  his  wife,  eldest  sister  and 
co-heiress  of  Ferdinando  Dudley,  Lord 
Dudley  of  Halesraven  Grange. 

Edmund  is  another  patronymic  that 
has  descended  through  the  generations. 
It  was  derived  from  the  marriage  of 
Margaret,  daughter  of  Thomas  Smith 
of  Cockermouth,  with  Edmund  Wil- 
niot  of  Hampshire.  Arms  : 

SABLE   ON    A    EKSS);    ENGRAILED    OH     HETWEEX     THREE 
SQUIRRELS    SEJANT    AKGENT,    EACH     HOLD- 
ING A  MARIGOLD   SLIPPED   PROP- 
ER,  AS    MANY   HERALD- 
IC  FOUNTAINS. 

Thomas  Smith  came  from  Romsey. 
England,  with  his  wife  Rebecca,  in  the 
ship  James,  to  Ipswich,  Mass.,  in  1635, 
thence  to  Newbury  in  1638,  and  set- 
tled on  the  farm  now  owned  by  David 
Smith.  He  died  April  22,  1666.  His 


children  were  :  Thomas,  born  in  1639, 
who  was  drowned  by  falling  into  a  clny- 
pit  on  his  way  to  school,  Dec.  6th, 
1648  ;  Rebecca,  born  Feb.'  20th,  1641, 
married  Aug.  4th,  1663,  Stephen 
Swett ;  Lieut.  James  Smith,  born 
Sept.  10th,  1645,  married  July  26th, 
1667,  Sarah  Coker.  He  was  drowned 
at  Anticosti  in  the  disastrous  expe- 
dition to  Quebec,  in  October,  1690. 
John,  born  March  9th,  1648,  mar- 
ried Rebecca  Poor  Nov.  26th,  1667; 
Matthias,  born  Oct.  27th,  1652  ;  Thom- 
as, born  July  7th,  1654,  was  killed  by 
the  Indians  at  Bloody  Brook  in  1696. 
This  was  in  King  Philip's  war.  As 
Philip  was  on  the  Connecticut  river  it 
became  necessary  for  the  English  to 
establish  an  opposing  force  in  some 
convenient  position.  As  Hadley  was 
selected,  an  increased  supply  of  pro- 
visions in  that  place  was  needed.  A 
considerable  quantity  of .  wheat  being 
preserved  in  stacks  at  Deerfield,  it  was 
deemed  expedient  to  have  it  thresh- 
ed and  brought  to  Hadley.  Captain 
Lathrop  and  his  company  volunteered 
to  proceed  to  Deerfield  and  protect  the 
convoy.  This  company  consisted  of 
the  flower  of  the  population  of  Essex 
— her  hopeful  }Toung  men — all  called 
out  of  the  towns  belonging  to  that 
county.  Of  the  twenty- three  men  im- 
pressed from  Newbmy,  on  the  5th,  6th 
and  27th  of  August,  to  go  against  the 
Indian  enemy,  were  Hemy  Bodwell,  who 
married  Bethia,  daughter  of  John  and 
Maiy  (Webster)  EmerjT,  JohnToppan, 
Thomas  Smith,  Samuel  Hills  and  Jon- 
athan Emeiy.  The}'  arrived  safely  at 
Deerfield,  threshed  the  wheat,' placed 
it  in  eighteen  carts,  and  while  on  their 
return  through  South  Deerfield,  as  they 
were  stopping  to  gather  grapes,  which 
hung  in  clusters  in  the  forest  that  lined 


120 


REMINISCENCES 


the  narrow  road,  they  were  surprised 
by  an  ambascade  of  Indians,  outnum- 
bering Capt.  Lathrop's  company  ten  to 
one,  who  poured  upon  them  a  murder- 
ous fire  ;  not  more  than  seven  or  eight 
of  the  eighty  men  in  the  company  es- 
caped. Sergeant  Thomas  Smith,  Sam- 
uel Stevens,  his  brother  John  Stevens, 
and  John  Littlehale  were  killed  ;  John 
Toppan,  who  was  wounded  in  the 
shoulder,  concealed  himself  in  a  -water- 
course then  almost  dry,  and  drew  grass 
and  weeds  over  his  head,  so  that, 
though  the  Indians  sometimes  stepped 
directly  over  him,  he  was  not  discover- 
ed. Hemy  Boclwell  had  his  left  arm 
broken  b}r  a  musket  ball,  but  being  a 
man  of  great  strength  and  courage,  he 
siezed  his  gun  in  his  right  hand  and 
swung  it  round  his  head,  and  so  forced 
his  way  through  the  Indians  by  whom 
he  was  surrounded.  John  Toppan 
brought  home  the  sword  of  Sergeant 
Thomas  Smith,  and  it  is  preserved  in 
the  family  at  the  old  homestead  as  a 
most  precious  relic.  At  the  recent  sec- 
ond centennial  celebration  of  the  battle 
Bloody  Brook,  it  was  again  borne  to  the 
field  by-  Edmund  Smith,  of  Newbury- 
port,  where  it  was  the  sole  memento  of 
that  cruel  fray.  The  rapier  excited 
universal  attention,  being  regarded 
with  awe  and  reverence.  Mothers  led 
up  their  little  children  to  touch  the 
sword  of  one,  whose  arm  that  wielded 
it,  had  been  mouldering  in  the  dust  just 
two  hundred  years  that  day. 

"•An  inventory  of  the  lands,  goods 
and  chattels  of  Thomas  Smith,  late  of 
Newbury,  who  was  slayne  when  Capt. 
Lathrop  was  slayne,  taken  by  Robert 
Long  and  Anthony  Somerby,  March 
22d,  1675  :  76 

Imprimis  foure  acres  of  plowland  3  acres  of 


pasture  4  acres    salt  marsh  &   3    acres   of 
swamp  or  slow  land  55-0-0 

A  yoke  of  oxen  &  a  4  yearf  old  heifer  16-10-0 

His  wearing  apparrell  5-0-0 

A  chest  a  cross  cut  saw  a  broad  axe 
2  augurs  A  maul  2  addes  a  rule  &  a 
raypier  2-8-0 

A  gnapsack  &  a  bible  &  2  paper 
bookes  0-3-6 

and  debts  due  to  him  about  1-0-0 

Sum  is  80-6-6 

the  deceased  was  out  in  the  country 
service  about  7  weeks  he  was  at  first 
corporall  and  after  seigent  under  the 
said  Capt.  Lathrop  &  had  all  his  arms 
&  amunition  well  fixt  which  is  all  lost 
except  the  rapier 

the  debs  that  the  deceased  owes  is 
about  10-0-0 

Anthony  Somerby  Robert.  Long. 

This  inventoryjired  in  court  held  at  Ips- 
wich the  28th  of  March  1676.  As  attest— 
Robert  Lord  cler." 

The  children  of  Lieut.  James  and 
Sarah  (Coker)  Smith  were  Sarah,  born 
Sept.  12th,  1668,  married  in  1692, 
Richard  Kelle}' ;  James,  born  Oct.  16th, 
1670,  married,  in  1695,  Jane  Kent; 
Thomas,  born  March  9th,  1673,  mar- 
ried March  29th,  1715,  Martha  Noj'es ; 
Hannah,  born  March  23d,  1675,  mar- 
ried in  1695,  Joseph  Pike.  These  were 
the  progenitors  of  Albert  Pike  the  poet. 
Joseph,  born  June  8th,  1677.  died  Ju- 
ly 19th,  1677  ;  John,  born  Nov.  1st, 
1678,  married  Dec.  9th,  1709.  Ann 
Nelson;  Benjamin,  born  Aug.  21st, 
1681,  married  April  19th,  1709,  Han- 
nahSomes ;  Mary,  born  Feb.  27th, 
1684,  died  Dec.  15th,  1685. 

The  children  of  James  and  Jane 
(Kent)  Smith  were :  Capt.  James, 
born  Nov.  25th,  1696,  married  Dec. 
9th,  1719,  Elizabeth  Moody;  Sarah, 
born  June  21st,  1699,  married  1728, 
William  Moulton ;  Mary,  born  Ma}r 
23d,  1701,  married  Feb.  28th,  1724, 
Moses  Noyes ;  Richard,  born  March 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAST. 


121 


81st,  1706,  died  3'oung ;  John,  born 
June  3d,  1709,  married  March  3d, 
1730,  Martha  Toppan,  and  died  Sept. 
25th,  1734;  Moses,  born  May  16th, 
1711.  married,  Nov.  24th,  1742,  Lydia 
Toppan  :  James,  the  husband  of  Jane 
Kent,  married  a  second  wife,  Sarah 
Ordway,  in  1723.  Martha  Smith, 
widow  of  John  Smith,  married  Cutting 
Moody.  She  left  two  children — John 
Smith,  born  Nov.  3,  1731,  and  Abi- 
gail Smith,  born  Nov.  29th,  1732  ;  she 
married  Jonathan  Bradbury  in  1758. 
Martha  and  Lydia  Toppan,  the  wives 
of  John  and  Moses  Smith,  were  sisters 
of  Rev.  Benjamin  Toppan,  minister  at 
Manchester,  Mass.,  forty-seven  years. 
They  were  children  of  Samuel  Toppan, 
who  married  Abigail,  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Michael  Wigglesworth,  author  of 
the  Day  of  Doom.  Rev.  David  Top- 
pan  was  a  son  of  Benjamin. 

Soon  after  his  marriage  with  Eliza- 
beth Moody,  Capt.  James  Smith,  hav- 
ing inherited  from  his  grandfather,  John 
Kent  of  Kent's  island,  a  hundred  acre 
lot  on  Crane-neck  hill,  moved  thither. 
That  part  of  Newbury  then  termed  the 
"  West  Precinct,"  or  "  Newtown,'' 
was  a  wilderness,  with  Indians  for 
neighbors.  A  garrison  had  been  estab- 
lished on  the  place  afterwards  owned 
by  Dea.  Samuel  Tenney.  Capt.  Smith 
put  up  a  small  house — the  back  part 
of  the  present  dwelling  ;  the  front  was 
built  a  few  years  later.  At  its  erec- 
tion the  house  was  lighted  by  case- 
ments hung  on  hinges,  with  diamond- 
shaped  panes  set  in  leaden  sashes. 
These  windows  were  modernized  by 
his  son  James,  who  remodelled  the 
house  and  built  the  long  barn. 

Capt.  James  and  Elizabeth  Smith 
had  ten  children  :  Sarah,  Samuel.  Wil- 
liam, James,  Richard,  Mollie,  Jenny, 


Betty,  Stephen  and  Moses.  These 
ten  sons  and  daughters  all  grew  to 
man's  and  woman's  estate,  comprising 
a  fine  family,  the  young  ladies  being 
specially  noted  for  beauty  and  grace. 
Sarah  married  Mood}'  Follansbee"  and 
settled  on  a  farm  near  Meeting-house 
hill.  Samuel  married  Judith,  and  Wil- 
liam, Mary,  sisters  of  Mr.  David  Em- 
ery at  the  main  road.  Capt.  Smith 
gave  to  each  of  these  two  sons  a  thirty 
acre  lot,  upon  which  they  erected 
houses  on  Crane-neck  road — one  above 
and  the  other  below — where  the  pres- 
ent school-house  is  located.  Isaac  in- 
herited the  homestead  and  married 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Dea.  John 
Noyes.  Richard  married  Abigail,  a 
sister  of  Mood}7  P'ollansbee,  and  estab- 
lished himself  in  the  shoe  business  in 
Newburyport,  where  he  built  a  house 
on  Short,  now  Independent  street. 
Mollie  became  the  wife  of  Capt.  Wil- 
liam Noyes  of  Newbuiyport.  Fanny 
died  of  consumption  in  early  life,  un- 
married. Bett3"'s  first  husband  was 
John  Emery,  son  of  David  ;  after  his 
decease  she  married  Col.  Spofford  of 
New  Rowley,  now  Georgetown.  Ste- 
phen and  Moses  moved  to  Lancaster, 
where  they  married.  Stephen  was  a 
merchant,  and  Moses  cultivated  a 
large  farm. 

Capt.  James  Smith,  2cl,  and  Eliza- 
beth (Noyes)  Smith  had  seven  chil- 
dren :  Parker,  Lizzie,  John,  Samuel, 
Sarah,  James,  Enoch. 

Parker  married  Hannah  Savory  and 
settled  on  a  farm  in  Newbuiy,  near  the 
Bradford  line.  Lizzie  became  the  wife 
of  Deacon  Samuel  Teuney  ;  John  mar- 
ried Mary  March,  and  purchased  the 
Jonas  Platts  farm  in  Bradford,  now 
Groveland.  Samuel  married  Sarah 
Bailey ;  he  became  the  Methodist 
16 


122 


REMINISCENCES 


preacher ;  Sarah  remained  unmarried. 
James  (my  father)  married  Prudence, 
eldest  daughter  of  Mr.  Joseph  Little, 
and  succeeded  the  line  of  James  Smiths 
on  the  home  farm.  Enoch  married 
Hannah  Woodman,  and  purchased  the 
farm  of  Maj.  Hills  on  Crane-neck  road, 
adjoining  that  of  my  grandfather  Little. 
The  Smiths  of  Newbury.  West  New- 
bury,  and  Newburyport,  though  noted 
for  intelligence,  ability,  thrift  and  en- 
terprise, have  not  been  a  scholastic 
race. 

Rev.  David  Smith  graduated  at  Har- 
vard in  1790.  I  recollect  hearing  him 
preach  some  time  during  the  interreg- 
num between  the  departure  of  Parson 
Toppan  and  the  ordination  of  Dr. 
Woods.  He  was  a  fine  looking  man, 
and  an  eloquent  divine .  His  record  I 
have  been  unable  to  trace. 

Daniel  Smith,  for  forty  years  an 
apothecaiy  in  Newburyport,  died  Mar. 
28,  1878,  aged  90  years.  Dr.  Smith's 
drug  store  (now  S.  A  Smith's) ,  was  on 
Market  square.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  upright  and  genial  of  men,  pos- 
sessing great  intelligence  and  force  of 
character.  The  latter  part  of  his  life 
was  passed  in  Lawrence,  where  he 
died.  His  son,  Daniel  Talcot  Smith, 
born  Sept.  17th,  1813.  graduated  at 
Amherst  in  1831,  was  assistant  instruc- 
tor at  Andover  in  1834-6,  ordained  in 
Sherburne,  Mass.,  Dec.  5th,  1836. 
Has  been  for  many  years  professor  in 
the  Bangor  Theological  Seminary. 

Thomas  Smith,  the  first  in  America, 
bore  the  ai'ms  of  Edward  Smith  of 
Hampshire : 

SABLE    ON   A   FESSE,    ENGRAILED  Oil,  BKTWKEN  THKEE 

DEMI-LIONS   PA8SAKT,  ARGENT,  AS  MANY 

FLEUR-DE-LIS  GULES. 

The  ancient  arms  of  Smith  of  Cuerdley 
were : 


SABLE,     SIX    FLEUR-DE-LIS,     THREE,     TWO,    AND    ONE 
ARGENT. 

Of  the  English  ancestor  to  whom 
the  arms  of  Smith  were  first  issued  I 
have  no  account. 

William  Smith,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  a 
descendant  of  the  Smiths  of  Cuerdley 
County,  Lancaster,  was  born  at  Peel 
House  in  the  township  of  Widness  and 
chapelry  of  Farnsworth,  in  the  parish 
of  Prescot  County.  Lancaster,  about 
the  year  1460.  In  1492  he  was  made 
Bishop  of  Litchfield  and  Coventry,  and 
on  the  18th  of  May.  1495.  he  was  trans- 
lated to  the  see  of  Lincoln.  About 
the  year  1509,  in  conjunction  with  Sir 
Richard  Sutton  of  Sutton  near  Mac- 
clesfield,  he  founded  a  college  in  the 
University  of  Oxford,  "commonly 
called  the  King's  Haule  and  Colledge  of 
Brazen  Nose."  He  also  held  the  im- 
portant office  of  Lord  President  of  the 
Marches  of  Wales  from  the  17th  of 
Henry  VII  to  the  4th  of  Henry  VIII. 
He  made  his  will  on  the  26th  of  Dec. 

1512,  appointing  William  Smith,  Arch- 
deacon   of    Lincoln,     Gilbert    Smith, 
Archdeacon  of  Northampton,  Thomas 
Smith  of  Chester,   merchant,  and  oth- 
ers, his  executors.     He  died  at  his  pal- 
ace at  Buckden  on  the   2d  of  January. 

1513,  and   was  buried   in  the  nave  of 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


123 


Lincoln  Cathedral,  near  the  great  west- 
ern door.  Among  his  other  benefac- 
tions were  a  chapel  in  Farnsworth 
Church,  and  a  grammar  school  at  the 
same  place.  The  arms  of  the  Bishop 
are  : 

AKOENT,   A   CHEVRON   SABLE   BETWEEN    THREE    ROSES 
GULES,  BARBED  ANI)   SEEDED  VERT. 

He  sealed  with  a  W  (the  initial  of  his 
Christian  name)  between  three  roses. 
On  the  brass  to  his  memory  in  Lincoln 
Cathedral,  were  four  escutcheons, — one 
bearing  his  arms,  two  containing  those 
of  his  two  sees — Litchfield  and  Lin- 
coln, and  a  fourth  blazoned  with  a  sol- 
taire  between  four  fleur-de-lis. 

Of  the  Cuerdley  famil}-  were  Thomas 
Smith,  twice  Mayor  of  the  city  of  Ox- 
ford, and  Thomas  Smith,  of  Chester,  a 
near  relative  and  one  of  the  executors 
of  Bishop  Smith.  This  Cuerdley  family 
well  observed  the  injunction,  "to  in- 
crease and  multiply."  Sir  Thomas 
Smith  of  Hatherton,  a  descendant  of 
Thomas  of  Chester,  had  twenty-two 
children.  Robert  Smith,  esq.,  some- 
time citizen  and  draper  of  London,  who 
died  23d  of  March,  1609-10,  had  elev- 
en sons  and  six  daughters,  all  of  whom 
are  represented  upon  his  monumental 
brass  in  Stoke  Prior  Church,  Worces- 
tershire. His  sou  Robert  was  the  first 
baronet  of  Upton.  Robert's  second 
son,  Sir  James  Smith,  Knt.,  Avas  Lord 
Mayor  of  London  in  1685,  and  his 
eldest  son  Sir  James  Smith  was  the 
first  baronet  of  Isfield. 

John  Smith  of  St.  Giles's,  Cripple- 
gate,  entered  his  pedigree  in  1663  as 
the  tenth  son  of  John  Smith,  of  "Stoke 
Priory,"  and  he  married  two  wives  and 
was  the  father  of  ten  children.  Of  the 
same  family  was  William  Smith,  of 
Cahir  Moyle,  Ireland,  who  had  issue, 


two  daughters  and  co-heiresses — Char- 
lotte, married  to  Sir  Edward  O.  Brien, 
Bart,  and  Harriet,  wife  of  Thomas  Ar- 
thur, Esq.  of  Glenomera.  The  arms 
of  John  Smith : 


GENTMAN,  &    CAPTAYNE  OF  2d  COM.  &  50   SOL- 
DIERS.     VERT  A  CHEVRON  GULES  BETWEEN 
THREE    TURK'S    HEADS   PROPER,  TUR- 
BANED  OR.      CREST — AN   OSTRICH  OR 
IN    THE    BEAK  A  HORSE   SHOE 

ARGENT. 
MOTTO.      "  VINCERE  EST  VIVERE." 

The  exact  pedigree  of  this  worthy 
cannot  be  traced.  It  is  generally  ad- 
mitted that  he  was  descended  from  the 
Smiths  of  Cuerdley,  and  he  is  stated  to 
have  been  born  at  Willoughby  in  Lin- 
colnshire in  1579,  and  to  have  been 
descended  by  his  mother  from  the  Rie- 
cards  of  Great  Heck  in  the  West  Rid- 
ing of  Yorkshire.  He  was  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Sigismund,  brother  to  Duke  of 
Transylvania,  from  whom  he  received 
in  1623  "three  Turks'  heads  in  a  shield 
for  his  arms  by  patent  under  his  hand 
and  seal,  with  an  oath  ever  to  wear 
them  in  his  colors,  his  picture  in  gold, 
and  three  hundred  ducats  yearly  for  a 
pension."  This  coat  was  granted  in 
memory  of  three  Turks,  w.hom  with 
his  own  sword  he  overcame,  and  cut 
off  their  heads,  in  the  province  of 
Transylvania. 


' 


REMINISCENCES 


Captain  Smith  after  various  advent- 
ures in  the  old  and  new  worlds,  his  life 
being  saved  by  Pocahontas,  etc.,  died 
in  London  on  the  21st  of  June,  1631, 
and  was  buried  in  St.  Sepulchre's,  in 
the  choir,  where  is,  or  was,  a  long  in- 
scription to  his  memory  in  '"fine  tink- 
ling rhyme  and  flowing  verse,"  setting 
forth  his  great  prowess  and  many  vir- 
tues :  • 

"How  that  he  did  divide  from  Pagans  three 
Their  heads  and  lives,  types  of  his  chivalrie; 
For  which  great, service  in  that  climated  one, 
Brave  SigUnuindus,  King  of  Hungarion, 
Did  give  him  a  coat  of   arms  to  \veare, 
Those  conquered  heads  got  by  his  sword  and 
speare,"  etc. 

Sir  Thomas  Smith  of  Theydon 
Mount,  Essex  Bounty,  was  secretary  to 
King  Edward  the  Sixth  and  Queen 
Elisabeth.  '  His  family  claim  descent 
from  Sir  Roger  de  Clarendon,  Knt.,  a 
natural  son  of  Edward  the  Black 
Prince. 

Sir  Thomas  Smith  of  Hill  Hall,  Es- 
sex, was  created  a  baronet  in  1661, 
his  arms  were : 

SABLE,   A   PES3E  DANCETTE   ARGENT,  BILLETY  OP  THE 
FIELD,      BETWEEN     THREE     LIONS     RAMPANT, 
GUARDANT   OF   THE  SECOND,    EACH   SUP- 
PORTING AN     ALTAR     OR,     FLAMIM. 
PROPER.       CREST— A     SALAMAN- 
DER IN    FLAMES,     DUCALLY 
GORGED,  REGUARD- 
ANT  PROPER. 

Some  have  supposed  this  crest  indica- 
tive of  the  escape  of  Sir.  Thomas  from 
being  burned  in  Queen  Mary's  reign, 
but  the  fiery  crest  is  rather  allusive  to 
the  "Smith  that  forgeth  at  the  fire"  of 
honest  Verstegan. 

Thomas,  second  son  of  John  Smith 
of  Corsham  County,  Wilts.,  settled  in 
London  and  became  farmer  of  the  Cus- 
toms to  Queens  Mary  and  Elizabeth. 
He  purchased  the  estate  of  Ostenhan- 
ger  (now  called  Westenhanger)  and 
other  property,  in  Kent,  and  died  in 


1591,  aged  69.  By  Alice,  his  wife, 
daughter  and  heiress  of  Sir  Andrew 
Judde,  Lord  Mayor  of  London  in  1550 
(son  of  John  Judde  of  Yurnbridge,  by 
Margaret,  daughter  and  co-heiress  of 
Valentine  Chiche,  which  Valentine  mar- 
ried Philippa,  daughter  and  co-heiress 
of  Sir  Robert  Chichele,  Lord  Mayor  of 
London  1411  and  1421,  by  Agnes,  his 
wife,  daughter  and  heiress  of  William 
Apuldrefield,  brother  of  Archbishop 
Chichele,  founder  of  All  Souls) ,  he  had 
seven  sons.  It  is  said  that  Smith 
farmed  the  Customs,  at  first,  for  £12,000 
a  year,  and  that  the}-  were  then  raised, 
time  after  time,  until  he  paid  £55,000 
a  year,  and,  £60,000  being  afterward 
demanded,  he  relinquished  the  contract. 
He  gave  his  eldest  son  Thomas  (who 
was  made  a  Knight  of  the  Bath  by  King 
James)  £8,000  a  year,  and  upon  each 
of  his  other  sons  he  bestowed  not  less 
in  estates  than  £6,000  a  year.  He  had 
six  sons,  who  were  sheriffs  of  six  dif- 
ferent counties. 

The  surname  of  Smith  is  of  great 
antiquity  in  Scotland,  and  of  old  was 
variously  written  Snryt,  Smyth  and 
Smith,  and  sometimes  the}'  have  been 
called  Gow,  which  is  Gaelic  for  Smith. 
The  traditional  accounts  of  their  origin 
is,  that  they  are  decended  from  the 
Clan  Chattan  :  that  Niel  Croomb.  third 
son  of  Murdoch  of  that  clan,  who  lived 
in  the  reign  of  William  the  Lion,  was 
their  progenitor.  The  sejant  cat  is  the 
device  of  the  Clan  Chattan,  the  motto 
"Xa  beau  d'on  chat  gan  lamhaiuu." 
—  Touch  not  the  cat  without  a 
glove.  ''The  Clan  Chattan.  who  gave 
the  name  to  the  county  of  Caithness, 
bore  as  their  chief  cognizance  the 
wild  mountain  cat,  and  called  their 
chieftain  the  Earl  of  Sutherland,  Mohr 
an  Chat,  the  great  wild  cat." 


OF   A 


125 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

On  the  maternal  side  my  first  ances- 
tor in  America  was  George  Little,  who 
came  to  Newbury,  from  Unicorn  street 
near  London  bridge,  in  1640.  Though 
a  young  man,  it  appears  as  though  he 
brought  a  considerable  sum  of  money, 
as  he  made  an  extensive  purchase  of 
land,  which  now  comprises  some  of 
the  finest  farms  in  Old  town,  most  of 
this  estate  being  still  retained  by  his 
descendants.  He  was  a  man  of  honest}' 
and  abilit}-,  often  appointed  to  fill 
places  of  trust  and  honor.  He  mar- 
ried Alice  Poore,  who  sailed  for  New 
England  from  Southampton  in  May 
1638,  together  with  her  younger  broth- 
ers, Samuel  and  Daniel,  in  the  party  of 
Mr.  Richard  Duinmer.  She  died  in 
1680,  aged  62.  His  second  wife  was 
Eleanor  Barnard,  widow  of  Thomas 
Barnard  of  Amesbury. 

George  and  Alice  Little  had  five  chil- 
dren— Sarah  who  died  in  infanc}7,  Jo- 
seph, John,  Moses,  and  a  second  Sarah. 
Capt.  Joseph  Little  married  Mary, 
daughter  of  Tristram  Coffin,  Esq. 
Their  children  were  Judith,  Joseph, 
(who  died  at  the  age  of  thirteen), 
George,  Sarah,  Enoch,  Tristram,  Mo- 
ses, Daniel,  and  Benjamin. 

Ensign  Enoch  Little  married  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  John  Worth.  En- 
sign Little  took  his  bride  to  a  farm  re- 
cently granted  on  Crane-neck  hill ; 
this  comprised  the  lower  end  of  the 
hill ;  Capt.  James  Smith's  was  above  ; 
Mr.  Ezra  Pillsbury's  place  lay  on  the 
northern,  and  that  of  Dr.  Adams  on 
the  southern  slopes.  The  bridegroom 
mounted  his  horse,  with  his  young  wife 
on  the  pillion,  and  with  their  effects 
packed  in  saddle-bags,  they  rode  over 
the  bridle-path  through  the  woods  to 


their  new  home.  No  shelter  had  been 
provided.  It  was  pleasant  summer 
weather,  and  the  }Toung  couple  on  the 
first  day  dined  upon  a  large,  flat  rock, 
which  is  still  preserved  as  a  memorial ; 
at  night  they  sought  the  protection  of 
the  garrison  house.  A  small  house 
and  suitable  out-buildings  were  built, 
trees  were  felled,  and  fruitful  fields 
soon  replaced  the  ancient  forest.  This 
pair  had  seven  children  :  Joseph,  Eliz- 
abeth, John,  Edmund,  Enoch,  Daniel, 
and  Benjamin.  Five  of  these' — Jo- 
seph. John,  Enoch,  Daniel  and  Benja- 
min, died  of  the  throat  distemper,  which 
at  one  time  committed  such  fearful 
ravages  throughout  the  colomr.  The 
only  daughter,  Elizabeth,  married 
Abel  Huse.  Capt.  Edmund.Little  mar- 
ried Judith,  daughter  of  Dr.  Matthew 
Adams  of  Crane-neck  hill ;  their  chil- 
dren were  Elizabeth,  Judith,  Joseph, 
John,  Sarah  and  Mary,  (twins), 
Enoch,  Eunice,  Prudence  and  Hannah. 
Elizabeth  married  Abram  Day,  and 
moved  to  Bradford.  Judith  married 
twice — first  Abram  Adams,  at  the 
' '  Farms ;"  second,  Capt.  Joseph 
Noyes  of  Newburyport.  Joseph  (my 
grandfather)  married  Betty  Merrill. 
AVithin  one  year  from  her  nuptials  Mrs. 
Little  died  of  consumption  ;  his  second 
wife  was  Mary,  third  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  William  Johnson.  John  married 
Ruth,  daughter  of  Ezekiel  Hale  ;  and 
Enoch,-  Man*,  half-sister  of  Ruth  :  Sa- 
rah married  Samuel  Thurrell,  or  Thur- 
low.  Mr.  Thurrell  resided  some  time 
at  the  '"  Farms."  In  the  year  1788  he 
purchased  the  Dr.  Adams  place  and 
moved  to  Crane-neck  hill.  Mary  be- 
came the  wife  of  John  Merrill ;  their 
only  child,  Lydia,  married  Dr.  Daniel 
Noyes  Poore ;  these  were  the  great- 
grandparents  of  the  present  Indian 


126 


REMIXISCE^CES 


Hill  family.  Eunice  married  Robert 
Adams  at  the  "  Farms."  Prudence 
died  when  a  child.  Hannah  married 
Samuel  Dole :  this  pair  resided  some 
years  in  Oldtown ;  afterwards  Mr. 
Dole  purchased  the  March  Farm  in 
Newtown,  and  moved  thither. 

Capt.  Edmund  Little  apportioned  to 
his  son  Joseph  about  seventy  acres. 
He  erected  a  house  and  barn  at  the 
foot  of  Crane-neck  hill,  just  beyond 
the  brook.  This  was  then  a  consider- 
able stream,  with  sufficient  power  to 
turn  the  wheel  of  a  grist  mill  which 
accommodated  the  neighborhood.  Capt. 
Little  had  erected  the  present  large 
and  commodious  mansion,  now  owned 
by  his  great-great-grandson,  Edmund 
Little,  and  here  he  resided,  his  son 
Enoch  occupying  half  of  the  house.  A 
smaller  one  was  built  for  John,  farther 
up  the  hill.  The  homestead  was  divid- 
ed equally  between  these  two,  who  cul- 
tivated the  place,  annually  paying  their 
father  one-third  of  the  income. 

To  avoid  confusion  I  have  spoken  of 
my  father's  mother  as'  Grandmother 
Smith,  and  have  not  mentioned  her 
leaving  the  Smith  homestead.  In  the 
year  1787  Capt.  James  Smith  died. 
At  that  time  Capt.  Edmund  Little  was  a 
widower.  Two  years  later  widow  James 
Smith  married  her  neighbor  Capt.  Ed- 
mund Little .  Her  son  Enoch  and  daugh- 
ter Sarah  still  occupied  her  part  of  the 
house,  and  cultivated  the  land.  Prior 
to  her  marriage,  settlements  were  drawn 
up  by  which,  if  Mrs.  Little  survived 
her  husband,  in  lieu  of  the  widow's 
dower,  she  was  to  receive  a  certain 
sum  of  money,  and  return  to  the  home 
of  her  first  marriage.  This  aged  cou- 
ple lived  a  most  pleasant  and  contented 
life  for  fourteen  years ;  then  great- 
grandsir  died  quite  suddenly,  and  ''lit-  j 


tie  grandmother,"  as  I  used  to  style 
her,  returned  to  her  former  home. 
Uncle  Enoch  Smith  bought  the  Major 
Hill  farm  and  moved  thither,  while 
grandmother  sank  into  her  former  rou- 
tine, with  her  daughter  Sarah  for 
housekeeper,  Uncle  Enoch  tilling  the 
land  as  before.  This  marriage  brought 
some  queer  relationships  into  our  fami- 
ly. Prior  to  his  mother's  second  union 
her  son  James  had  married  Prudence, 
granddaughter  of  Capt.  Edmund  Little. 
Thus  nrv  father  became  son-in-law  to 
his  wife's  grandfather.  The  stone 
erected  at  the  grave  of  my  father's 
mother  bears  this  inscription  : 

ELIZABETH, 

WIFE   OF   CAPT.    JAMES   SMITH, 

AND   RELICT    OF    CAPT.    EDMUND   LITTLE, 

AGED   ElfrHTT-^EVEN. 

The    first    ancestor    in  America   of 
Elizabeth  "Worth,    the  wife  of   Ensign 

O 

Enoch  Little,  was  Lionel  Worth,  who 
married  Susanna  "Whipple.  Her  father 
John  Worth,  married  Elizabeth,  daugh- 
ter of  Israel  Webster,  the  second  son 
of  John  and  Mary  (Shatswell)  Webster 
of  Ipswich.  Mrs.  Webster's  second 
husband  was  John  Emery  of  Newbury, 
who  emigrated  to  this  countiy  from 
Romsey,  England. 

The  arms  of  Worth  are  ; 


ARGKNT.  AN    EAGLE    IMPERIAL    SABLE,  MEMBERED    OR. 
CREST — A  LION    RAMPANT  PPB. 


OF    A 


127 


The  Rev.  Daniel  Little  was  born 
July  18th,  1724.  He  married  in  1751, 
Mary,  daughter  of  Rev.  Joseph  P^mer- 
son,  who  died  June  2d,  1758,  aged  32, 
and  Sarah  Coffin,  June  6th,  1759. 
Though  Mr.  Little  did  not  pursue  a 
collegiate  course,  he  spent  several  years 
in  teaching,  and  the  degree  of  A.  M. 
was  conferred  by  Harvard  College  in 
1766.  He  studied  theology  with  Rev. 
Joseph  Moody  of  York,  District  of 
Maine,  and  in  March,  1751,  was  or- 
dained pastor  of  the  second  parish  in 
Wells,  in  that  district.  Mr.  Little  was 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  in- 
fluential clergyman  in  that  region,  en- 
joying a  most  successful  pastorate  of 
over  fifty  years.  In  1772  he  was  ap- 
pointed for  missionary  service  in  the 
eastern  portion  of  the  district  of  Maine. 
This  work  led  during  the  succeeding 
years  to  be  a  series  of  arduous  tours 
and  he  became  styled  the  Apostle  of 
the  East.  He  established  a  school  for 
the  Indians  on  the  Penobscot,  and 
prepared  a  full  vocabulary  of  their  lan- 
guage. Mr.  Little  was  much  interested 
in  the  education  of  youth,  and  when 
far  advanced  in  years,  was  selected  as 
one  of  the  trustees  of  Bowdoin  College 
at  its  establishment.  He  died  suddenly 
of  paralysis,  on  the  5th  of  December, 
1801,  leaving  several  children  and 
grandchildren  ;  one  of  the  latter  be- 
came the  leading  partner  in  the  firm 
Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Boston. 

Col.  Moses  Little,  born  in  Newbury 
May  8th,  1724,  married,  June  5th,  1743. 
Abigail,  daughter  of  Joshua  Bailey, 
twin  sister  of  Judith,  who  married  his 
brother  Stephen,  also  sister  of  Gen. 
Jacob  Bailey,  a  distinguished  officer  in 
the  French  and  Revolutionary  wars. 
She  died  Feb.  6th,  aged  91. 

During  Col.  Little's  early  manhood 


there  was  much  activity  in  settling- 
townships  ;  large  tracts  of  land  had 
been  granted  to  the  officers  and  soldiers 
of  the  French  and  Indian  war ;  many 
wealthy  people  were  also  securing 
grants.  Col.  Little  obtained  the  ap- 
pointment of  surveyor  of  the  King's 
lands.  In  1750  he  was  one  of  a  com- 
pany who  acquired  from  Gov.  Benning 
Wentworth  a  large  grant  of  the  unoc- 
cupied crown  lands  lying  within  the 
present  limits  of  Vermont.  A  few 
years  after  he  purchased  a  large  tract 
of  land  in  the  township  of  Apthorp, 
N.  H.,  which  was  divided  into  two 
towns,  one  being  named  in  his  honor, 
Littleton,  and  the  other^  Dalton,  from 
his  townsman,  Hon.  Tristram  Dalton. 
His  possessions  in  this  region  were  in- 
creased by  subsequent  purchases,  with 
Maj.  Samuel  Gerrish  and  Col.  Jona- 
than Bailey.  He  acted  as  agent  for 
the  proprietors  of  Bakerstown,  and 
succeeded  in  obtaining  for  them  from 
the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts  a 
township  of  land  in  Maine  in  lieu  of 
the  one  granted  in  1736,  which  was 
subsequently  decided  to  be  within  the 
borders  of  New  Hampshire.  By  pur- 
chasing from  time  to  time  the  rights  of 
the  original  proprietors  he  became  the 
owner  of  the  greater  part  of  the  grant, 
which  comprised  a  large  part  of  what 
is  now  Androscoggin  count}-.  In  1768 
the  Pejepscot  Company  granted  to  him 
and  Col.  Bailey  a  still  larger  tract  in 
the  same  county,  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  Androscoggin,  on  condition  that 
they  would  settle  fifty  families  there 
before  June  1st,  1774,  and  build  cer- 
tain roads.  These  conditions  being- 
only  partially  fulfilled  the  amount  of 
land  deeded  was  diminished.  Though 
over  fifty  years  of  age,  the  war  of  the 
Revolution  found  in  Col.  Little  one  of 


128 


REMINISCENCES 


the  most  active  and  patriotic  of  his 
country's  defenders.  Being  senior 
captain,  at  the  news  of  the  British  ex- 
pedition to  Concord,  which  found  him 
ploughing,  he  unyoked  his  oxen,  and 
rall3"ing  his  conipan}',  marched  to  the 
American  head-quarters  at  Cambridge. 
At  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  he  com- 
manded a  regiment.  Forming  his 
men  in  Indian  file  he  led  them  across 
Charlestown  Neck  under  a  terrible 
fire  from  the  British  batteries  and 
ships  of  war,  arriving  at  the  scene  of 
conflict  just  prior  to  the  third  and  final 
charge  of  the  enemy.  Though  unhurt. 
Col.  Little  had  several  narrow  escapes  ; 
comrades  falling  on  either  side  bespat- 
tered his  black  velvet  clothes  with 
blood.  In  August  he  returned  home 
to  attend  the  funeral  of  two  of  his 
children,  and  rejoined  his  command  af- 
ter an  absence  of  only  two  days.  After 
the  evacuation  of  Boston  he  accompan- 
ied the  army  to  New  York,  Ms  regi- 
ment forming  a  part  of  Gen.'  Greene's 
brigade.  . 

On  the  4th  of  April  Washington  left 
Cambridge  for  New  York.  Expecting 
him  at  Providence,  Gen.  Greene,  who 
had  been  detained  there,  ordered  two 
regiments,  Hitchcock's  Rhode  Island 
and  Little's  Massachusetts,  to  appear 
in  their  best  form,  and  escort  the  Gen- 
eral into  the  city.  The  minuteness  of 
Greene's  directions  on  the  occasion  de- 
picts the  personal  appearance  of  the 
early  Continental  soldier.  The  follow- 
ing has  been  preserved  amongst  Col. 
Little's  papers : 

"  Providence,    April    4th,    1776. 

Col.  Hitchcock's  and  Col.  Little's  reg- 
iments are  to  turn  out  to-morrow 
morning  to  escort  his  Excellency  into 
town,  to  parade  at  8  o'clock,  both  offi- 
cers and  men  dressed  in  uniform  ;  and 
none  to  turn  out  except  those  dressed 


in  uniform  ;  and  those  of  the  non-com- 
missioned officers  and  soldiers  that 
turn  out  to  be  washed,  both  face  and 
hands,  clean,  their  beards  shaved, 
their  hair  combed  and  powdered,  and 
their  arms  cleaned.  The  General  hopes 
that  both  officers  and  soldiers-  will  exert 
themselves  for  the  honor  of  the  regi- 
ment and  brigade  to  which  they  belong. 
He  wishes  to  pay  the  honors  to  the 
Commander-in-Chief  in  as  decent  and 
respectable  a  manner  as  possible." 

Upon  Washington's  arrival  at  New 
York  he  arranged  the  army  into  five 
brigades,  under  Heath,  Spencer,  Sul- 
livan, Green,  and  Stirling.  It  becom- 
ing necessary  to  despatch  Gen.  Sulli- 
van with  six  regiments  to  the  north- 
ward, on  the  29th  of  April  the  troops 
were  anew  formed  into  four  brigades, 
— Green's  third  brigade  being  assigned 
to  Long  Island.  Owing  to  bad  weath- 
er it  did  not  cross  until  the  third  of 
May.  These  troops  consisted  of  Col. 
Edward  Hand's  Pennsylvania  Riflemen, 
two  Rhode  Island  regiments  under 
Cols.  James  Mitchell  Varnum  and 
Daniel  Hitchcock,  and  Col.  Moses  Lit- 
tle's regiment  from  Massachusetts. 
These  ranked  as  the  first,  ninth,  elev- 
enth and  twelfth  of  the  Continental 
Establishment,  and  were  as  well  armed 
and  under  as  good  discipline  as  any  in 
the  army.  Hand's  regiment  numbered 
four  hundred  and  seventy  officers  and 
men,  the  others  having  an  average  of 
about  three  hundred  and  fifty  each. 
These  troops  occupied  the  water  front 
to  keep  the  enemy's  ships  out  of  the 
river,  and  to  secure  themselves  from  an 
attack  by  laud.  To  hold  the  Brooklyn 
peninsula  a  chain  of  works  'was  thrown 
up  across  the  neck.  Three  forts  and 
two  redoubts,  with  connecting  breast- 
works, were  thrown  out.  These  forts 
were  named  Green,  Box,  and  Putnam. 
The  command  of  Fort  Green  was  as- 


OF  A 


129 


signed  to  Col.  Little,  who  describes  it 
as  the  largest  of  the  works  on  Long 
Island,  and  he  resolved  it  never  should 
be  surrendered  while  he  was  alive. 

Washington's  arm}-  at  the  opening  of 
the  campaign  of  August  27th  consisted 
of  twenty-eight  thousand  five  hundred 
officers  and  men.  Of  these  Massachu- 
setts furnished  seven  thousand  three 
hundred.  Greene  having  been  advanc- 
ed to  the  rank  of  Major-General,  his 
brigade  had  been  placed  under  the 
command  of  Brigadier-General  John 
Nixion, — a  sixth  regiment  from  Mas- 
sachusetts, under  Col.  William  Pres- 
cott,  having  been  added  to  the  force. 

On  the  22d  of  August  the  British 
troops  crossed  from  Staten  to  Long 
Island.  When  tidings  of  the  enemy's 
landing  reached  Washington  the  troops 
were  immediately  put  under  arms. 
Col.  Little  expecting  that  morning- 
would  bring  on  a  battle,  and  remem- 
bering his  promise  to  defend  Fort 
Greene  to  the  last  extremity,  wrote  the 
following  letter  to  his  son  Isaiah  : 

AUG.  22,  1776. 

I  have  thought  fit  to  send  you  nvy 
will.  You  will  take  all  charge  neces- 
sary, &c.  The  ene:ny  this  day  landed 
on  this  island  and  marched  within  three 
miles  of  our  camp.  Three  or  four 
regiments  lodge  within  two  miles  of  the 
enemy.  I  expect  morning  will  bring 
us  a  battle. 

Below  is  Col.  Little's  account  of  the 
battle  : 

IN  CAMP,  NEW  YORK,  ) 
Sept.  1st,  1776.       ) 

The  enemy  left  Staten  Island  and 
landed  on  Long  Island  the  22d,  and 
encamped  on  a  large  plain  five  or  six 
miles  aross,  at  Flat  Bush,  four  miles 
distant.  In  the  morning  at  two  o'clock, 
the  enenvy  attacked  our  right  wing ;  a 
smart  engagement  for  some  time.  The 
enemy  also  advanced  on  our  left.  Lord 
Stirling  reinforced  the  right  wing  and 


'defended  himself  till  12  o'clock,  when 
our  wing  gave  way.  My  regiment  was 
in  the  centre  on  guard.  The  enemy's 
right  wing  almost  encircled  two  or 
three  regiments,  and  as  they  were  not 
together  they  were  not  able  to  defend 
themselves  and  retreated  with  about 
twenty  wounded.  Our  people  came 
in  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  enemy 
at  the  same  time  with  their  light  horse 
and  English  troops  attempted  to  force 
our  lines,  but  soon  re  treated,  being  met 
with  a  smart  fire  from  our  breast  works. 

Two  deserters  informed  us  that  the 
number  of  enemy's  dead  and  wounded 
was  upwards  of  five  hundred — I  wish 
ours  may  not  be  more.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  28th,  the  enemy  were  en- 
camped on  the  heights  in  front  of  our 
encampment.  Firing  was  kept  up  on 
both  sides,  from  the  right  to  the  left. 
Weather  very  rainy ;  29th,  very  rainy. 
Firing  by  both  sides  in  front  of  Fort 
Putnam.  About  sunset  the  enemy 
pushed  to  recover  the  ground  we  had 
taken  (about  one  hundred  rods)  in 
in  front  of  the  fort.  The  fire  was  very 
hot,  the  enemy  gave  way  and  our  peo- 
ple recovered  the  ground.  The  fire 
ceased  and  our  people  retired  to  the 
fort.  The  enemy  took  possession  again, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  30th,  had  a 
breast  work  there  sixty  rods  long  and 
one  hundred  and  fifty  rods  distant  from 
Fort  Putnam. 

Two  ships  of  war  had  got  up  the 
sound  as  far  as  Hell-gate  by  this  time. 
The  general  ordered  each  regiment  to 
be  paraded  on  their  own  parades  at  7 
o'clock  p.  m.  and  wait  for  orders.  We 
received  orders  to  strike  our  tents  and 
march  with  our  baggage,  to  New  York. 
Our  lines  were  manned  until  day-break. 
The  reason  of  the  retreat  was,  that  we 
should  have  no  chance  to  retreat  if  the 
ships  came  up.  I  am  not  certain  we 
shall  be  able  to  keep  the  city  of  New- 
York.  You  may  hear  of  our  being  at 
King's  bridge.  •  A  great  battle  I  think 
will  be  fought  here,  or  near  King's 
bridge.  I  am  in  a  good  state  of  health. 
I  am  your  affectionate  father, 

MOSES  LITTLE. 

To  Mr.  Josiah  Little. 
17 


130 


REMINISCENCES 


Adjutant  Josiah  Adams,  Lieut.  Sam*- 
uel  Huse,  Moses  Pillsbury,  Samuel 
Smith,  Chase  Colby,  Richard  Short, 
and  David  Emery,  were  seven  of  the 
soldiers  from  Newbury  in  this  battle. 
The  two  latter  stood  shoulder  to  shoul- 
der in  the  fray.  M  r.  Short  ever  cher- 
ished a  tender  memory  of  his  deceased 
comrade, — an  afiection  extended  to  his 
son.  To  the  latest  day  of  his  long  life 
his  first  words  of  greeting  always  were, 
"  David,  your  father  and  I  faced  death 
together." 

The  following  is  taken  from  Col.  Lit- 
tle's order  book : 

"  REGIMENTAL  ORDERS. 

(Col.  Little's.) 

Officers  for  fatigue  to-morrow — Capt. 
Gerrish,  Lt.  Kent,  and  Lt.  Atkinson." 

"  Regimental  Orders  for  the  12th 
Regiment  of  Foot : 

James  Holland,  a  fifer  in  Cap. 
Dodge's  Company,  is  appointed  fife- 
major  to  this  regiment,  and  is  to  be 
obeyed  as  such.  Com'd  officers  for 
picket  to-night — Lt.  Atkinson  and  Lt. 
Fiske. 

May  21st,  1776.  Field  officer  for 
picket  to-morrow  night — Lt.  Col.  Cra- 
ry,  Adj.  from  Col.  Little's  regiment." 

GEN.  GREEN'S  ORDER. 

May  25,  1776. 

Capt.  Silas  Talbot  of  Col.  Hitch- 
cock's regiment,  Cap'u  Frazier  of 
Cap'n  (Col.)  Wayne's  regiment,  Lt. 
Noel  Allen  of  Col.  Varnum's  regiment, 
and  Lt.  Samuel  Huse  of  Col.  Little's 
regiment,  are  a  committee  to  inspect 
the  provisions  for  the  troops  of  this 
bridage. 

June  21,  1776. 

Lt.  Huse  is  requested  to  oversee 
the  well-digging  in  Fort  Green. 

July  18,  1776. 

Field  officer  of  the  da}-  to-morrow, 
Lt.  Col.  Henderson,  Adj.  from  Col. 
Little's. 

Aug.  16,  1776. 
The   gin   shops,   and  houses  selling 


liquor,  strictly  forbidden  to  sell  to  sol- 
diers.  excepting  near  the  two  ferries. 
The  General  is  determined  to  have  an}" 
soldiers  punished  that  may  be  found 
disguised  with  liquor,  as  no  soldier  in 
such  a  situation  can  be  fit  for  defense 
or  attack. 

The  General  orders  that  no  sutler  in 
the  army  shall  sell  to  am-  soldier  more 
than  1  gill  of  spirits  per  day.  If  the 
above  orders  are  not  adhered  to.  there 
shall  be  no  more  retailed  out  at  all. 

List  of  killed  and  missing  at  the  bat- 
tle of  Brooklyn,  Col.  Little's,  Twelfth 
Continental  (Mass.) 

Captain  Parker's  Company. 

Killed— Peter  Barthrick. 

Capt.  AVade's  Company. 

Missing — Archelaus  Pulsifer. 
Capt.  Dodge's  Company. 

Missing — Elijah  Lewis. 

After  the  battle  of  Brooklyn,  Col. 
Little  was  entrusted  with  the  command 
of  an  encampment  at  Peekskill,  where 
he  was  detained  by  illness  during  Wash- 
ington's retreat  through  New  Jersey. 
At  the  battles  of  Trenton  and  Princeton 
his  troops  were  commanded  by  Lieut. - 
Col.  Ilenshaw,  but  he  rejoined  the  army 
in  time  for  efficient  service.  His  health 
being  serious!}-  impaired,  he  returned 
home  in  1777.  In  1779  he  was  appoint- 
ed by  the  Commonwealth  to  take  com- 
mand of  the  naval  armament,  which 
was  designed  to  dislodge  the  enemy  at 
Penobscot,  but  declined  on  account  of 
ill  health.  He  lost  his  speech  in  1781, 
from  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  and  died 
May  27,  1798,  aged  74. 

Col.  Little  was  characterized  by  sa- 
gacity, strength  of  mind,  and  a  self- 
possession  which  in  the  most  trying 
situations  never  deserted  him.  He 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Washington 
early  in  the  war,  who  held  him  in  high 
esteem,  and  often  relied  upon  his  judg- 
ment. An  autograph  letter  from  the 
latter,  with  the  sword  worn  at  the  bat- 


OF   A 


131 


tie  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  other  relics,  are 
still  in  the  possession  of  his  descend- 
ants. 

Col.  Josiah,  son  of  Col.  Moses  Lit- 
tle, born  Feb.  16, 1747  ;  married,  Nov. 
23,  1770,  Sarah,  daughter  of  Edward 
Toppan,  of  Newbury .  Like  his  father, 
Col.  Josiah  Little  was  noted  for  energy 
and  activit}'.  Until  far  advanced  in 
years,  he  annually  visited  the  lands  he 
inherited  in  Maine,  New  Hampshire 
and  Vermont,  driving  over  the  rough 
roads  alone,  even  after  he  had  lost  one 
hand  by  a  premature  explosion  while 
overseeing  the  blasting  of  a  passage 
through  some  rapids  on  the  Androscog- 
gin.  He  had  charge  of  his  father's 
real  estate  for  many  years.  As  the 
agent  of  the  Pejebscot  Company,  whose 
claims  were  not  very  readily  acknowl- 
edged, he  was  often  brought  into  un- 
friendly relations  with  the  squatters, 
who  were  numerous  in  Maine  at  that 
time.  Tradition  has  handed  down  many 
laughable  adventures,  but  frequently 
his  personal  safet}*  was  in  jeopardy. 
In  Newbury,  Col.  Little  was  both  influ- 
ential and  popular,  representing  the 
town  in  the  General  Court  for  nearly 
thirty  successive  }Tears.  In  addition  to 
his  other  business  he  was  largely  en- 
gaged in  shipping.  At  his  death  he 
left  a  fortune  valued  at  several  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  He  died  Dec.  26, 
1830,  aged  83. 

Michael,  oldest  child  of  Col.  Josiah 
Little  was  born  March  14,  1772  ;  grad- 
uated at  Dartmouth  in  1792  ;  married, 
Oct.  19,  1800,  Sarah  Stover,  who  died 
July  28,  1801.  His  second  wife  was 
Elizabeth  Ricker,  of  Somersworth.  He 
died  March  16,  1830. 

Hon.  Edward  Little,  the  second  son 
of  Col.  Josiah  Little,  was  born  March 
12th,  1773.  Graduated  at  Dartmouth 


College  in  1797 ;  married,  Jan.  10th, 
1799,  Hannah,  daughter  of  Captain 
Thomas  Brown  of  Newbury.  She  died 
Aug.  1st,  1828,  aged  56  years.  His 
second  wife  was  Hannah,  widow  of  Tap- 
pan  Chase  of  Portland.  He  studied  law 
in  Newburyport  in  the  office  of  Judge 
Parsons ;  practised  his  profession  for 
several  }Tears  with  success  ;  was  county 
attorney  and  publisher  of  law  reports 
for  the  Commonwealth.  After  the  fire 
of  1811,  by  which  he  lost  nearly  all  of 
his  property,  he  removed  to  Portland, 
and  in  1826  to  Auburn,  where  he  con- 
tinued to  reside  during  the  remainder 
of  his  life.  The  owner,  by  inheritance, 
of  the  larger  part  of  the  surrounding 
territory,  he  had  great  influence  in  di- 
recting and  promoting  the  growth  of 
the  place.  He  endowed  an  academy 
which  continued  in  successful  operation 
for  forty  j'ears.  After  the  formation 
of  the  high  school  sj-stem  the  grounds 
and  a  portion  of  the  funds  were  trans- 
ferred by  the  trustees  to  the  town, 
which  now  maintains  an  Edward  Little 
High  School.  He  died  Sept.  21st, 
1849. 

Josiah,  the  third  son  of  Col.  Josiah 
Little,  born  Jan.  13th,  1791,  graduated 
at  Bowdoin  in  1811;  married,  Jan. 
24th,  1814,  Sophronia  Balch.  He  was 
an  extensive  land  owner,  and  engaged 
in  manufactures ;  a  member  of  the 
Maine  Historical  Society,  and  an  Over- 
seer of  Bowdoin  College,  where  he  es- 
tablished a  professorship  of  Natural 
Science,  and  founded  the  Public  Libra- 
ry of  Newbuiyport,  where  for  many 
years  he  occupied  the  residence  of 
the  late  Dr.  Edmund  Sawj-er  on  High 
street.  He  died  Feb  5th,  1860. 

Josiah  Stover,  onby  child  of  Michael 
and  Sarah  (Stover)  Little,  born  July 
9th,  1801,  graduated  at  Bowdoin  at 


132 


REMINISCENCES 


the  head  of  the  class  of  1825  ;  mar- 
ried Abby  Chamberlain,  Sept.,  1833. 
He  was  President  of  the  Atlantic  and 
St.  Lawrence  Railroad,  and  Speaker  of 
the  Maine  House  of  Representatives 
for  several  years.  He  died  April  2d, 
1862. 

Josiah,  second  son  of  Hon.  Edward 
Little,  born  April  29th,  1801,  was  a 
graduate  of  Bowdoin,  studied  law  with 
his  father,  practiced  his  profession  for 
several  years,  afterwards  engaged  in 
manufactures.  He  married,  Sept.  2d, 
1822,  Mary  Holt  Cummings  of  Nor- 
way, Me.,  who  died  at  Minot,  Oct  6th, 
1829,  aged  25  years  and  6  months ; 
March  30th,  1830,  Nancy  Williams 
Bradford,  who  died  at  Auburn,  Nov. 
20th,  1834,  aged  26  years  and  7 
months;  May  26th,  1835,  Sally 
Brooks,  of  Alfred,  who  died  at  Au- 
burn, April  15th,  1849,  aged  41  years 
and  11  months,  and  May  20th,  1850, 
Charlotte  Ann  Brooks,  who  survives 
him. 

After  an  absence  of  man}-  years  he 
returned  to  his  native  place,  Newbury- 
port,  where  he  resided  until  his  death. 
As  a  man  of  business  he  posessed  ex- 
cellent judgment.  As  a  citizen  he  was 
the  firm  friend  of  good  order  and  good 
morals,  furthering  to  his  utmost  the 
well-being  of  the  communit}'.  For 
man}*  3*ears  he  took  a  deep  interest  in 
the  church  and  Christian  institutions. 
He  died  Aug.  9th,  1863. 

Edward  Toppan,  third  son  of  the 
Hon.  Edward  Little,  born  Dec.  29th, 
1809,  studied  law  with  his  father,  rep- 
resented his  town  in  the  State  legisla- 
ture for  several  years,  and  was  Judge 
of  Probate  for  Androscoggin  county. 
For  many  years  he  was  a  director  in 
the  Maine  Central  Railroad  and  of  the 
First  National  Bank  of  Auburn.  His 


reputation  as  an  upright  and  able  law- 
yer gave  him  an  extensive  practice. 
He  married,  Oct.  2d,  1839,  Melinda  C., 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  W.  B.  Adams, 
who  died  at  Auburn,  Sept.  30th,  1842  ; 
and  June  9th.  1846,  Lucy  Jane,  daugh- 
ter of  Zeba  Bliss.  He  died  Novem- 
ber, 1805. 

Hon.  Moses,  the  j'oungest  son  of 
Col.  Moses  Little,  born  Jan.  20th, 
1767,  married,  Aug.  6th,  1786,  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  Shubael  Dummer, 
who  died  Oct.  22d,  1840.  He  held 
the  commission  of  justice  of  the  peace 
for  fifty  years,  represented  the  town  of 
Newbury  in  the  Legislature  nineteen 
years,  was  a  member  of  the  conven- 
tion for  altering  the  constitution  of 
Massachusetts,  and  a  deacon  of  the 
Belleville  church  for  thirt}-  years.  He 
died  April  28th,  1857. 

Moses,  son  of  Moses  and  Lj-dia 
(Coffin)  Little,  born  Feb.  26th,  1691 ; 
married  Sarah,  daughter  of  Sergeant 
Stephen  and  Deborah  Jaques,  Feb. 
12th,  1716.  He  died  Oct.  I7tk,  1780. 

The  following  epitaph  is  taken  from 
stone  in  the  upper  burying  ground,  on 
the  Plains,  at  Newbmy  : — 

MR.    MOSES   LITTLE  DEPARTED  THIS  LIFE 
OCT.  17TH,  IN  THE  90TH 

YEAR  OF  HIS  AGE. 

HE  WAS  TEMPERATE  IN   ALL  THING-. 

INDUSTRIOUS,     HOSPITABLE,     TET    FRUGAL. 

A   KIND   HUSBAND  AND  TENDER   FATHER. 

A  GOOD  NEIGHBOR  AND  GOOD  CITIZEN, 

AND  WHILE  LIVING  JUSTLY  SUSTAINED  THE  FIRST 

OF   CHARACTERS — AN  HONEST  MAN. 

"A  wit's  a  feather,  a  chiefs  a  rod, 
An  honest  man's  ye  noblest  work  of  God." 

Deacon  Stephen,  oldest  son  of  Mr. 
Moses  Little,  born  May  19th,  1719  ; 
manned,  Aug.  oth,  1743,  Judith  Bai- 
ley, who  died  1764,  aged  40,  and  af- 
terwards Mary  Long,  who  survived 
him,  dj'ing  in  1798,  in  her  75th  year ; 


OF   A  NONAGEJSTAKIAlSr. 


133 


Deacon  Little  died  Aug.  30th,  1793. 
Jacob,  the  youngest  child  of  Deacon 
Stephen  Little,  born  1763 ;  married 
Hannah,  daughter  of  Moses  and  Han- 
nah Sawyer.  Sept.  28th,  1786.  Their 
seventh  child,  Jacob,  born  March  19th, 
1797,  in  Newbury,  Belleville,-  was  one 
of  the  most  prominent  of  New  York 
brokers.  His  father,  Jacob  Little, 
was  a  man  of  wealth  and  distinction, 
but  commercial  disasters  swept  away 
his  property,  and  the  war  of  1812  near- 
!}•  completed  his  financial  ruin.  In 
1817  Mr.  Little  secured  a  situation  for 
his  son  Jacob  in  counting-house  of  the 
renowned  Jacob  Barker,  and  at  once 
he  became  a  favorite  with  that  success- 
ful merchant.  After  remaining  with 
Mr.  Barker  five  years,  he  began  busi- 
ness on  his  own  account  as  an  ex- 
change specie  broker,  in  a  small  base- 
ment office  on  Wall  street.  During  the 
next  twelve  years,  working  eighteen 
hours  a  da}*  in  his  little  office,  he 
promptly  and  shrewdly  executed  every 
order,  and  his  success  was  due  no  less 
to  his  integrity  than  to  his  talent.  In 
1834  Mr.  Little  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  leading  financiers  and  bankers  of 
the  city,  but  commercial  disaster  over- 
took him.  Thrice  Mr.  Little  was  car- 
ried down,  but  he  was  never  dishonor- 
ed. He  recovered  himself,  and  paid 
up  his  contracts  in  full.  On  his  first 
suspension,  though  legally  free  from 
liability,  he  disbursed  nearly  $1,000,- 
000,  paying  every  creditor  in  full  with 
interest,  so  that  it  was  a  common  say- 
ing among  moneyed  men,  that  Jacob 
Little's  suspended  paper  was  better 
than  the  checks  of  most  merchants. 
He  closed  his  long  career  without  a 
stain  upon  his  mercantile  reputation. 
He  died  March  28th,  1865,  leaving  a 
widow  and  one  son.  The  newsof  his 


death  startled  the  great  city.  Mer- 
chants congregated  to  do  him  honor. 
Resolutions  of  enduring  respect  were 
adopted,  and  the  Stock  Board  adjourn- 
ed to  attend  his  funeral.  He  was 
borne  to  his  burial  in  Greenwood  Cem- 
etery with  all  honor. 

Paul,  the  youngest  son  of  Mr.  Moses 
Little,  born  April  1,  1740 ;  married, 
Ma}'  20,  1762,  Hannah  Emer}-,  who 
died  in  September,  1771 ;  widow  Sarah 
Souther  of  Ipswich,  Aug.  30, 1772,  who 
died  Sept.  26,  1797,  aged  54  ;  and  af- 
terwards widow  Sarah  Emerson  of 
Boxford,  who  died  Ma}'25,  1817,  aged 
55.  He  moved  from  Newburyport  to 
Portland  in  1761 ;  was  a  goldsmith  by 
trade,  but  engaged  in  commercial  busi- 
ness to  a  considerable  extent.  After 
the  destruction  of  the  town  by  the  Brit- 
ish in  1776  he  removed  to  Windham, 
where  many  of  his  descendants  still  re- 
side. 

Silas  Little,  born  in  March,  1754 ; 
graduated  at  Dartmouth  in  1792  ;  mar- 
ried his  cousin  Lucretia,  daughter  of 
Joseph  and  Elizabeth  Hazen  Little,  and 
died  in  1845.  Squire  Little  was  a  prom- 
inent citizen,  and  owned  a  fine  fa^-m  in 
Oldtown.  Among  other  public  offices, 
he  was  one  of  the  selectmen,  and  a  rep- 
resentative to  the  state  legislature  for 
several  years. 

Moses  Little,  born  July  3,  1766 ; 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1787 ;  was  a 
physician  in  Salem,  Mass.,  and  died 
Oct.  13,  1811. 

William  Little,  born  Oct.  14,  1825 ; 
married  Ellen  M.  Carlton,  of  Haverhill, 
Oct.  6, 1864.  Town  clerk  of  Newbury 
for  over  twenty  3"ears,  and  president  of 
the  Antiquarian  and  Historical  Society 
of  Old  Newbury. 

David  Little  Withington,  born  in 
Newbury,  Feb.  2,  1854 ;  graduated  at 


134 


REMINTSCEXCES 


Harvard  in  1874.     A  practicing  lawyer 
in  Boston  and  Newburyport. 

Lothrop  Withington,  born  in  New- 
bury,  Jan.  31, 1856  ;  educated  at  Dum- 
mer  Academy  and  Putnam  Free  School, 
graduating  at  the  latter  in  1872.  Since 
1873,  has  resided  a  large  part  of  the 
tune  in  England  and  France.  Edited 
and  published  "The  Ocean  Wave,"  a 
daily  evening  paper,  in  Newburyport, 
from  October,  1878,  to  April,  1879,  and 
was  lately  on  the  staff  of  the  Newbury- 
port Herald. 

Russel  Moody  Little,  born  in  1858  ; 
a  student  at  Amherst. 

The  exact  pedigree  of  George  Little, 
of  Unicorn  street,  London,  I  have  been 
unable  to  learn  ;  the  family  descent  can 
be  traced  by  the  coats  of  arms.  The 
first  granted  are  :  Little  —  Sable,  a  sal- 
tire  or  (another  or) .  The  next  record 
of  these  arms  are  :  Little,  Meichledale, 
Scotland —  Sa,  saltire,  engr.  or ;  Little, 
Liberton,  Scotland  —  the  same  arms, 
with  a  crescent  for  difference.  Crest, 
a  leopard's  head  or ;  motto,  Magnum 
in  parvo. 

At  some  period  between  1698  and 
1731,  a  William  Little,  of  Liberton, 
county  Edinburgh,  a  gentleman  of  an- 
cient family,  which  had  been  in  posses- 
sion of  the  barony  of  Liberton  for  over 
a  hundred  years  preceding,  married 
Helen,  daughter  of  Sir  Alexander  Gil- 
mour,  of  Craigmillar  in  the  same  coun- 
ty. Next  in  order  comes  Geoi'ge  Lit- 
tle, esq.,  of  Llanvair  Grange,  county 
Monmouth,  Wales.  Arms : 

SA,  A  CHEVRON  ENGR.  ARGENT.   CREST— LEOPARD'S 
HEAD  PPB.   MOTTO— "  MAGNUM  IN  PARVO." 

There  was  a  family  of  Littles,  of 
Kilnrea,  Yorkshire,  England,  recorded 
as  "  long  time  resident  in  this  parish," 
in  1671,  but  the  arms  are  a  lion. 


The  arms  transmitted  by  the  descend- 
ants of  George  Little  in  America  are  : 


OB,  A  SALTIBE,  OB  ST.  ANDREW'S  CROSS,  ENGRAILED 

SABLE.    CREST— A  WOLF'S  HEAD. 
MOTTO— "MAGNUM  IN  PARVO,"  GREAT  IN  LITTLE. 

The  arms  of  the  family  of  Alice 
Poore,  the  first  wife  of  George  Little, 
are  : 


OR,  A  FESS  AZURE.  THBEE  MULLETS  GULES.    CREST  - 

LION'S  HEAD  OR. 
MOTTO —"PAUPER  NON  IN  SPE."  POOR  NOT  IN  HOPE. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

The  Amery's  (or  Emery's)  first  an- 
cestor in  England  was  Gilbert  D'Amery, 
a  Norman  Knight  of  Tours,  who,  in 


OF    A  NO^AGENARIAK. 


135 


1066,  fought  at  Hastings  with  William 
the  Conqueror.  The  Roll  of  Battle 
Abbey,  where  the  names  of  the  Con- 
queror's chieftains  are  recorded,  gives 
the  name  as  "  Damery." 

Gilbert  D'Amery  received  large  land- 
ed estates  from  William  the  Conqueror. 
He  owned  Thackingdon,  and  half  a 
dozen  manors,  near  Oxford,  which  were 
held  by  his  descendants  until  1376, 
when  the  third  Baron  Richard  D'Ame- 
ry died.  They  long  dwelt  at  Berkwell 
manor,  ten  miles  from  Oxford,  where 
still  stands  the  church  they  built.  The 
property  went  b}-  heiresses  to  other 
names,  but  John  represented  the  coun- 
t}'  in  parliament  as  late  as  1423.  An- 
other John  settled  in  Devon,  and  his 
heir  held  the  manor  of  White  Chapel 
at  Bishops  Nympton,  which  Frances, 
the  heiress  of  William,  carried  to  Ed- 
ward Gibbon,  whose  tablet,  at  Tiver- 
ton,  is  dated  1707. 

Thomas  Emer}%  citizen  and  uphold- 
er, of  London,  left  a  will,  dated  March 
11,  1533,  proved  June  2,  1534,  be- 
queathing his  soul  to  God,  the  Virgin 
Maiy,  &c.,  and  desiring  to  be  buried 
in  the  churchyard  of  St.  Michael, 
Cornhill,  London. 

Edward  Emery,  of  Mary  at  Rooting, 
County  Essex,  gent.,  will  dated  Oct. 
30,  1637,  proved  Jan.  15,  1641,  names 
elder  brother  Thomas  Emery,  and  ap- 
points his  younger  brother,  Anthony 
Emery,  his  executor. 

The  Herald's  Visitation  of  Essex, 
1634,  contains  the  following  : 

' '  Thomas  Emery  als  Amery  of  Lit- 
tle Baddow  co.  Essex,  Thomas  Emery 
of  Little  Baddow  eldest  sonn,  mar. 
Mary  dau.  of  Folliett  of  qu  Filliot, 
Oldhall  in  Rayne.  Thomas  Emery  of 
Little  Baddow  co.  Essex  1634,  mar. 
Jane,  daughter  of  Bay  ley  of  Wades- 


mill  co.  Hertford ;  children,  Edward, 
Anthony,  Maiy,  Elisabeth." 

Thomas  Ameiy,  son  of  Robert  and 
Miss  Elliot,  held  estates  near  Bristol. 
He  married  the  daughter  of  the  nine- 
teenth Lord  Keny.  His  brother  Jona- 
than came  to  Carolina  as  advocate-gen- 
eral and  treasurer.  His  daughter  Sarah 
married  Gov.  Arthur  Middleton.  His 
son  Thomas  settled  in  Boston. 

Edwards,  in  his  Life  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  quotes  a  letter  from  John 
Hooker  to  Sir  Walter  : 

"Your  ancestor,  Sir  John  de  Ra- 
leigh, married  the  daughter  of  D'Ame- 
rie,  D'Amerie  of  Clare,  Clare  of  King 
Edward  the  First,  which  Clare,  by  his 
father,  descended  of  King  Henry  the 
First." 

In  a  volume  of  French  history  it  is 
said  that  when  Napoleon  had  resolved 
to  negotiate  "  avec  Rome  pour  retab- 
lir'  L'ancien  culte,"  his  first  advances 
were  "  sous  la  direction  religieuse  du 
respectable  abbe  Emery,  superieur  gen- 
eral de  Saint  Sulspice." 

Anthony  and  John  Emery,  the  first 
in  America,  came  from  Romsey,  Eng- 
land, in  the  ship  James,  to  Ipswich, 
thence  to  Newbury,  in  June,  1635. 
Romsey  is  a .  rare  old  town  in  Hamp- 
shire (Hants),  on  the  river  Esk  (the 
Auton  of  the  Roman  period).  The 
broad,  but  winding  and  shallow  vale  is 
indescribably  beautiful,  with  its  manors 
and  cottages  amidst  the  slumberous  fol- 
iage, its  wheat  meadows,  green  slopes, 
and  crystal  "Auton  water."  Flocks 
of  Southdowns  dot  the  pasture  swells, 
and  myriads  of  sparrows  sweep  around 
the  ripening  grain  acres.  Towards 
Southampton  stretches  the  superb  park 
and  forest  of  "  Broadlands,"  the  seat 
of  Lord  Palmerston.  Beyond  is  the 
old  mediaeval  town  ;  the  great  square 
tower  of  the  abbey  church  of  St.  Mary's 


136 


REMINISCENCES 


towering  above  the  quaint  buildings, 
with  the  walled  and  buttressed  bridge 
of  high  arches  spanning  the  gleaming 
river.  In  the  churchyard  of  the  old 
abbey  (one  of  the  oldest  in  England, 
a  part  of  the  walls  having  been  erected 
in  the  twelfth  century,  by  Henry  l)e 
Blois,  bishop  of  Winchester)  repose 
the  dust  of  successive  generations  of 
Emerys,  and  within  its  time-honored 
walls  Anthony  and  John  Emery  were 
baptised.  In  the  churcl^'ard  were  in- 
terred my  Smith  ancestors.  Thomas 
Smith  came  from  Romsey.  It  was 
from  the  worship  in  this  ancient  pile 
that  the  forefathers  seceded  to  join  the 
sect  of  the  Puritans.  The  Emerys  are 
stiU  represented  in  Romsey.  A  John 
Emery  recently  deceased  there,  who 
counted  his  descent  from  an  ancestor 
in  the  middle  ages. 

Anthon}r  Emery,  with  his  wife  Fran- 
ces, and  son  James  (born  in  England), 
went  to  Dover  as  early  as  1644,  where 
he  occupied  land  which  he  purchased  of 
Stephen  Goddard  in  1643.  In  1646  he 
had  a  grant  of  land  of  the  town,  and 
was  one  of  the  selectmen  of  Dover. 
He  kept  a  tavern,  but,  having  trouble 
with  the  authorities  respecting  his  li- 
cense to  sell  wines,  &c.,  in  1648  he  as- 
signed his  land  to  Thomas  Layton,  and 
moved  to  Kitten-,  and  settled  in  what 
is  now  called  Elliot.  He  signed  the 
submission  to  Massachusetts,  in  1652, 
and  was  elected  as  one  of  the  towns- 
men or  selectmen  for  that  3'ear,  and 
also  for  1654.  He  received  from  the 
town,  in  1650,  grants  of  land  of  two 
hundred  acres.  He  was  the  first  ferry- 
man between  Kittery  and  "Strawberry 
Bank  "  ;  a  prominent  citizen,  holding- 
several  local  offices ;  a  smart,  enter- 
prising man  ;  and  many  of  his  descend- 
ants are  notable  persons.  The  time  of 
his  death  is  unknown. 


James  Emeiy,  born  about  1630 ; 
came  to  this  country  with  his  father ; 
went  to  Kittery,  and  signed  the  sub- 
mission to  Massachusetts  in  1652.  He 
had  grants  of  land  from  the  town  of 
Kittery  from  1652  to  1671  of  four  hun- 
dred and  ten  acres  ;  was  one  of  the  se- 
lectmen of  Kittery  for  several  years, 
and  was  a  representative  to  the  General 
Court  at  Boston  in  1676.  His  wife  was 
Elizabeth.  Children :  James,  born 
about  1658  ;  Zachariah,  born  in  1660  ; 
Noah,  born  in  1663  ;  Daniel,  born  in 
1666  ;  Job,  born  in  1670. 

James  Emery,  son  of  James,  mar- 
ried Margaret,  daughter  of  Richard 
Hitchcock,  Dec.  18,  1685.  Children  : 
Margaret,  born  Dec.  18,  1686  ;  James, 
born  Feb.  18,  1688  ;  Lydia,  born  April 
28,  1891;  Frances,  born  Dec.  17, 
1694;  Rebekah,  bora  March  7,  1697 
(the  latter  married  Daniel  Smith,  of 
Saco,  Jan.  1, 1719,  and  Matthew  Ladd, 
of  Falmouth,  Ma}-  7,  1755)  ;  Samuel, 
born  Sept.  2,  1700 ;  Elizabeth,  born 
March  7,  1703  ;  Thomas,  born  Dec.  2, 
1706  ;  Lucretia,  born  March  6,  1709. 

Zachariah  Emery  received  from  the 
town  of  Kittery  in  1665  a  grant  of 
fifty  acres.  His  wife  was  Elizabeth. 
Children :  Elizabeth,  born  Nov.  24, 
1687  ;  Zachariah,  born  Oct.  5,  1690.  ' 

Xoah  Emery  had  a  grant  of  land 
from  the  town  of  Kittery,  in  1885  and 
1699,  of  one  hundred  acres. 

Daniel  Emery  married  Margaret, 
daughter  of  William  Gowen,  March  17, 
1695.  He  died  Oct.  lo,  1722.  He 
had  a  grant  of  twenty  acres  of  land  in 
1694.  He  was  an  original  member  of 
the  church  in  South  Berwick  in  1702, 
a  deacon  in  1703,  and  an  elder  in  1720. 
He  and  his  brother  James  were  select- 
men of  the  town  in  1707,  and  for  sev- 
eral subsequent  3'ears.  He  was  also 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


137 


noted  surveyor  of  land.  His  farm  in 
Elliot  is  still  owned  and  occupied  by 
his  descendants.  His  children  were : 
Daniel,  born  June  25,  1697 ;  Noah, 
born  Dec.  11,  1699,  settled  in  Exeter, 
N.  H.  ;  Simon,  born  Jan.  6,  1702  ; 
Zachariah,  born  March  12,  1704  ;  Mar- 
garet, born  March  3,  1707 ;  Caleb, 
born  Oct.  — ,  1710  ;  Ann,  born  March 
19, 1712  ;  Joshua,  born  June  30,  1715  ; 
Tirzah,  born  Sept.  19,  1717  (married 
Dudley  James,  of  Exeter,  Jan.  12, 
1753)  ;  Huldah,  born  Aug.  4,  1720. 

Job  Emery  had  grants  of  land  from 
Kittery,  in  1694  and  1699,  of  thirty 
acres.  His  wife  was  Charity.  Chil- 
dren :  Job,  born  Jan.  29,  1697 ;  Char- 
ity, born  April  24,  1699  ;  Sarah,  born 
Feb.  4,  1700 ;  Joseph,  born  Feb.  4, 
1702  (married  Mehitable  Stacy,  Oct. 
10, 1727  ;  she  was  born  Feb.  4, 1705)  ; 
Jonathan,  bora  Feb.  27,  1709  ;  Eliza- 
beth, born  July  8, 1711 ;  Mary  Abigail, 
born  Nov.  17,  1713 ;  Miriam,  born 
April  8,  1716  ;  Jabez,  born  July  13, 
1718  ;  Mary,  born  Dec.  4,  1720. 

John  Emery  secured  a  grant  of  land 
on  the  southerly  side  of  the  main  road 
leading  to  the  bridge  over  the  river 
Parker,  a  short  distance  above  the 
"Lower  Green,"  Oldtown.  He  had 
been  accompanied  from  England  l)y  his 
wife  (whose  maiden  name  is  unknown) , 
a  son,  John,  born  about  1629,  and  a 
daughter,  Anna,  born  in  1631.  The 
record  of  the  third  child,  the  first  born 
in  America,  is:  "  Ebenezer,  a  daugh- 
ter, 16  Sept.,-  1848,  being  Monday 
morning,  two  hours  before  day."  '•'•Eb- 
enezer :  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped 
us."  Evidently  this  daughter  was 
named  from  hearts  overflowing  with 
thankfulness.  Though  Miss  Ebenezer 
might  not  have  exactl}'  fancied  her 
Christian  name,  I  doubt  not  it  gave  her 


Puritan  sire  the  keenest  satisfaction. 
Mrs.  Emery  died  the  April  following 
the  birth  of  this  daughter.  The  29th 
of  October,  1650,  John  Emery  married 
Mary  (Shatswell)  Webster,  widow  of 
John  Webster,  of  Ipswich.  They  had 
one  son,  Jonathan  Emery. 

John  Emery,  jr.,  Oct.  2,  1648,  mar- 
ried Miss  Mar}-  Webster,  a  daughter  of 
the  widow  Mary  (Shatswell)  Webster. 
Children :  Mary,  born  June  24,  1652  ; 
Hannah,  born  April  26,  1654  ;  John, 
born  Sept.  12,  1656  ;  Bethia,  born  Oct. 
15,  1658  ;  Sarah,  born  Feb.  26,  1661 ; 
Joseph,  born  March  23, 1663  ;  Stephen, 
born,  Sept.  6, 1666  ;  Abigail,  born  Jan. 
16, 1669  ;  Samuel,  born  Dec.  20, 1670  ; 
Judith,  born  Feb.  4, 1673  ;  Lydia,  born 
Feb.  19,' 1675  ;  Elizabeth,  born  Feb.  8, 
1680;  Josiah,  born  Feb.  28,  1681. 
John  Emery  died  in  1693.  Mary,  his 
widow,  died  April  28,  1694. 

Anna  Emery  married,  Nov.  23, 1648, 
James  Ordway,  who,  tradition  says, 
came  from  Wales  to  Newbury.  He 
was  born  in  1620,  and  died  after  1702. 
Anna,  his  wife,  died  March  31,  1687. 
Children :  Ephraim,  born  April  25, 
1650 ;  James,  born  April  16,  1651 ; 
Edward,  born  Sept.  14,  1653  ;  Sarah, 
born  Sept.  14,  1656  ;  John,  born  Nov. 
17,  1658  ;  Isaac,  born  Dec.  4,  1660, 
and  died  Jan.  16,  1669  ;  Jane,  born 
Nov.  12,  1663  ;  Hananiah,  born  Dec. 
2,  1865 ;  Anne,  born  Feb.  17,  1670. 

Jonathan  Emeiy,  second  son  of  John, 
senior,  married,  Nov.  29,  1676,  Mary, 
daughter  of  Edward  Woodman,  jr. 
Children :  Mary,  born  Sept.  24,  1677 ; 
Jonathan,  born  Feb.  2,  1679  ;  David, 
born  Sept.  28,  1682  ;  Anthony,  born 
Nov.  13,  1684  ;  Stephen,  born  Jan.  13, 
1687,  and  died  in  Oct.,  1688;  Sara, 
born  Dec.  18,  1688 ;  Stephen,  born 
18 


138 


PtEMTSTSCEXCES 


June  24, 1692  ;  Edward,  born  Nov.  10, 
1694,  and  James. 

Eleanor  Emery,  a  sister  of  Anthony 
and  John,  married  John  Bailey,  jr., 
who  came  to  Salisbury,  thence  to  New- 
bury,  in  1650.  Children :  Rebecca, 
born  1641  ;  John,  born  May  IS,  1643, 
and  died  June  22,  1663 ;  Joshua, 
died  April  7,  1652 ;  Sarah,  born 
Aug.  17,  1644 ;  Joseph,  born  April 
4,  1648  ;  James,  born  Sept.  12,  1650  ; 
Joshua,  born  Feb.  17,  1653 ;  Isaac, 
born  July  22,  1654 ;  Rachel,  born 
Oct.  19,  1662  ;  Judith,  born  Aug.  3, 
1665,  and  died  Sept.  20,  1668. 

Ebenezer  Emery  married,  April  21, 
1669,  John  Hoag.  Children :  John, 
born  Feb.  20,  1670  :  Jonathan,  born 
Oct.  28,  1671 ;  Joseph,  born  Jan.  10, 
1677 ;  Hannah,  born  Jan.  3,  1683 ; 
Judith,  born  April  20.  1687. 

John,  oldest  son  of  Jonathan  and 
Mary  (Woodman)  Emery,  married, 
March  1,  1705,  Hannah  Morss.  She 
died  Oct.  4,  1732.  In  1733,  Mr.  Em- 
ery married  Rebecca  Walker.  Chil- 
dren: Hannah,  born  June  19,  1706, 
married  Edward  Holman,  May  19, 
1726;  Joshua,  born  March  21,  1708, 
married  Sarah  Smith,  March  28,  1728  ; 
David,  born  Jan.  24,  1710,  married 
Abigail,  daughter  of  Deacon  Daniel 
Chase,  Jan.  27,  1732.  She  died  Aug. 
29,  1753,  aged  38.  His  second  wife's 
maiden  name  was  Mary  Pillsbury  ;  she 
first  married  John  Hills,  in  1728,  sec- 
ond, Enoch  Hale,  Feb.  1,  1750  ;  Sa- 
rah, born  Dec.,  1711,  married  David 
Chase,  Nov.  24,  1729 ;  Dr.  Anthony, 
born  Sept.  5,  1713,  married  Abigail 
Leavitt,  of  Hampton,  N.  H.,  May  10, 
1738 ;  Mehitabel,  born  Oct.  12,  1718, 
married  Nathan  Morss,  Oct.  20,  1742 ; 
Judith,  born  Jan.  10,  1722,  married 
Samuel  Smith,  Dec.  2,  1742;  Mary, 


born  Dec.  8,  1726,  married  William 
Smith,  May  20,  1747. 

David,  second  son  of  John  and  Han- 
nah Emery,  obtained  a  grapt  of  land 
in  the  "West  Precinct"  of  Newbury, 
on  the  main  road  in  the  upper  parish, 
and  became  one  of  the  wealthiest  citi- 
zens in  that  part  of  the  town.  His 
children,  all  by  his  first  wife,  Abigail 
Chase,  were :  David,  born  Jan.  23, 
1734,  died  Feb.  14,  1734 ;  John,  born 
Jan.  16,  1735,  married  Edna  Noyes, 
April  7,  1756 ;  Abigail,  born  June  2, 
1737,  married  Ephraim  Boynton,  Feb. 
19,1756;  Hannah,  born  Feb.,  1739, 
married  Daniel  Hills,  May  15,  1757  ; 
Martha,  born  March  1,  1741,  married 
Nathaniel  Bailej*,  August  6,  1761 ; 
Sarah,  born  June  24,  1744,  married 
Enoch  Noyes,  Oct.  30,  1765 ;  Moses, 
born  Jan.  13,  1748,  married  Sarah 
Hale,  Sept.  27,  1770  — children,  Abi- 
gail, John,  Jacob,  and  Moses  ;  Thom- 
as, born  1750,  married  Ruth  March, 
Oct.  10,  1770.  and  died  Nov.  21, 1770. 
His  widow  married  John  White,  3rd, 
May  7,  1772. 

David  Emery  and  his  second  wife 
died  from  dysentery,  a  short  time  from 
each  other.  Their  gravestones  read  : 

MARY, 

WIFE  OF  DAVID  EMERY, 

DIED  SEPT.  16,  1778, 

AGED  66.   • 

DAVID   EMERY, 

DIEB  OCT.  29th>   1773, 

AGED  69  TEAKS. 

John,  son  of  David  and  Abigail 
(Chase)  Emery,  married  Edna,  daugh- 
ter of  Capt.  Ephraim  Noyes,  for  his 
first  wife.  Edna  (Noyes)  Emery,  a 
great-granddaughter  of  Mr.  Nicholas 
Noyes,  and  great-grandneice  of  Rev. 
James  Noyes,  also  descended  from  a 
noteworthy  family  on  the  maternal  side, 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


139 


her  mother  being  Abigail,  the  second 
child  of  Jonas  and  Anna  (Bailey) 
Platts,  and  granddaughter  of  Dea.  Jos- 
eph Bailey,  of  Bradford. 

Dea.  Joseph  Bailey  was  the  only 
child  of  Richard  Bailey,  who  came 
from  Yorkshire,  England,  to  America, 
when  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  with 
Richard  Dummer,  in  the  ship  Bevis, 
150  tons,  Robert  Batten,  master,  in 
April,  1638.  At  that  early  age,  young 
Bailey  was  noted  for  piety ;  and,  dur- 
ing a  violent  storm  on  the  voyage,  he 
was  called  upon  b}T  the  ship's  company 
to  pray  for  their  safety.  He  married 
P^dna  Holstead,  and  purchased  an  es- 
tate in  Rowley.  He  was  one  of  a  com- 
pany to  set  up  the  first  cloth  mill  in 
America,  which  was  in  Rowhry,  on  the 
site  of  the  present  "Bummer's  (Glen) 
Mills."  Richard  Bailey  died  in  1647 
or  1648.  In  1619,  Edna,  the  widow 
of  Richard  Bailey,  married  Ezekiel 
Northend,  of  Rowley,  who  probably 
took  possession  of  the  homestead,  as 
it  has  been  in.  the  possession  of  the 
Northend  family  from  that  time. 

When  Dea.  Joseph  Bailey  obtained 
his  lot,  and  built  his  house,  the  home- 
stead was  included  within  the  ancient 
precincts  of  Rowley,  that  part  border- 
ing the  river  bearing  the  designation  of 
"  Merrimac  Land."  This  was  soon  in- 
corporated as  the  town  of  Bradford, 
and  in  1850  the  east  part  of  Bradford, 
in  which  his  farm  was  situated,  was  set 
off  as  a  separate  town  under  the  name  of 
Groveland.  Deacon  Bailey  was  one  of 
the  leading  men  of  Bradford,  in  civil, 
military  and  ecclesiastical  affairs.  He 
was  one  of  the  selectmen  twenty-three 
years  between  1675  and  1710,  and  one 
of  the  deacon's  from  the  formation  of 
the  church  until  his  death,  Oct.  11, 
1712. 


The  Bailey  arms  are  : 


OR,    ON  A   PESS    BETWEEN     THREE     MARTLETS    GU,    A 

BEZANT.      CREST— A  DEMI-LADY,    HOLDING  IN 

HER  DEXTER  HAND   A   TOWER,    AND  IN 

SINISTER  A  BRANCH  OF  LAUREL. 

The  children  of  John  and  Edna 
(Noyes)  Emer}'  were :  Ephraim,  born 
Feb.  28,  1758  ;  David,  born  April  20, 
1763  ;  Hannah,  who  died  in  childhood. 
Mrs.  Emery  deceased  soon  after,  and 
Mr.  Emery  married  Betty  Smith,  of 
Crane-neck  hill.  He  lived  but  a  short 
time  after  this  union,  and  his  widow 
married  Col.  Spofford,  of  New  Row- 
ley. 

Ephraim,  oldest  son  of  John  and 
Edna  Emery,  married  Mary,  daughter 
of  Peter  Russell,  of  Bradford.  hil- 
dren :  Mary,  Thomas,  Sohn  and  Han- 
nah. 

David  Emery,  the  second  son,  born 
April  20,  1763,  married  Betty,  only 
daughter  of  John  and  Ruth  (Hale) 
Little.  He  died  Oct.  21,  1785.  Their 
son,  David,  was  born  Dec.  22,  1785. 
The  third  year  of  her  widowhood,  Betty 
(Little)  Emery  married  Moses  Column, 
of  By  field. 

iStephen,  third  son  of  John,  jr.,  and 
Mary  (Webster)  Emery,  born  in  1666, 
married  Ruth  Jaques  in  1692,  and  set- 
tled on  a  farm,  on  the  "  river  road,"  in 
what  is  now  the  first  parish  in  West 


140 


REMIXISCEXCES 


Newbury.  Children :  Anna,  Sarah, 
Ruth,  Mary,  Judith,  Abigail,  Elizabeth, 
Stephen,  Hannah,  Miriam,  and  Lydia. 

Lydia,  born  in  1717,  married  her 
kinsman,  Moses  Eineiy.  Their  chil- 
dren were  :  Lydia,  Mary,  John,  Moses, 
Josiah,  Nathan,  Sarah,  Anna,  Amos, 
and  Michael. 

Amos,  born  in  1757,  married  Anna 
Mood}*  in  1784.  Children :  Hannah, 
Anna,  Ebenezer,  Lydia,  Miriam,  Mo- 
ses, Amos  and  Jacob  Moody. 

A  part  of  the  farm  is  still  the  resi- 
dence of  the  widow  and  daughters  of 
the  late  Jacob  Moody  Emery.  A  clock 
that  had  ticked  in  its  corner  at  the 
homestead,  for  nearly  one  hundred  and 
fifty  years,  has  recently  been  taken  to 
Portland,  Maine,  by  a  grandson  of  Amos 
Emery,  Amos  Emeiy  Howell,  where  it 
has  been  rejunevated,  looking  even  bet- 
etter  than  in  its  palmiest  days,  over  a 
century  ago. 

Michael  Emeiy  was  one  of  the  first 
carriage  builders  of  Amesbury.  John 
Emery,  senior,  must  have  been  a  man 
of  consideration  and  education,  as  we 
find  his  name  bearing  honorable  men- 
tion, in  the  earliest  annals  of  the  set- 
tlement. February  1st,  1638,  the  town 
ordered  that  "John  Emery  shall  make  a 
sufficient  pound  for  the  use  of  the 
towne,  two  rods  and  a  halfe  square,  by 
the  last  of  the  present  month  if  he  cann." 
On  the  following  17th  of  May,  An- 
thony Emeiy  was  fined  '  •  twenty  shil- 
lings for  a  pound  breach,  and  to  give 
thirteen  shillings  and  fourpence  to  Thom- 
as Coleman  for  his  charges."  Dec.  18th, 
1645,  a  committee  of  seven  men  was  ap- 
pointed "  at  a  publique  meeting  for.  to 
procure  a  water  mill  for  to  be  built  and 
set  up  in  said  towne  (of  Newbury). 
to  grind  theyr  corne."  And  they  agreed 
to  give  John  Emery  and  Samuel  Scul- 


lard  £20  in  merchantable  pay,  to  give 
them  ten  acres  of  upland,  and  six  acres 
of  meadow,  and  that  the  said  mill  is  to 
' '  be  free  from  all  rates  for  the  first  sev- 
en years,  and  to  be  a  freehold  to  them 
and  their  heirs  forever,  the}'  on  their 
part  agreeing  to  sett  up  said  mill  be- 
tween Nicholas  Holt's  point  and  Ed- 
ward Woodman's  bridge,  ready  for  the 
town's  use,  to  grind  the  town's  grists, 
at  or  before  the  twenty-ninth  of  Sept. 
1646." 

This  was  the  second  grist  mill  estab- 
lished in  Newbury  —  the  first  was  erect- 
ed at  "  the  falls,"  on  the  river  Parker, 
by  Messrs  Dummer  &  Spencer,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  grant  from  the  Gen- 
eral Court,  and  an  agreement  with  the 
town  in  1635. 

May  18th,  1647,  the  town,  for  three 
pounds,  granted  to  John  Emery  "  that 
parcell  of  land  called  the  greene,  about 
three  akers,  being  more  or  lesse,  bound- 
ed by  the  half-acre  lots  on  the  west, 
the  live  way  on  the  south-east,  and  his 
own  land  on  the  north;  being  in  a  tri- 
angle, only  the  twenty  rods  is  reserved 
in  said  land  for  a  burying  place  as  it 
is  bounded  with  stakes  with  a  way  to  it 
from  the  east." 

This  burying  place  is  situated  east  of 
Oldtown  hill,  and  is  still  called  the 
"  Emery  lot."  At  a  short  distance 
may  be  seen  the  site  of  the  first  resi- 
dence of  John  Emery  with  the  well 
near  by. 

At  the  court  in  Salem.  May  5th.  1 663, 
John  Emery  was  fined  four  pounds  for 
entertaining  Quakers.  His  offence  con- 
sisted in  granting  food  and  lodging  to 
two  men  and  two  women,  who  were 
travelling  together  farther  east. 

In  George  Bishop's  "New  England 
Judged,"  will  be  found  this  narration  : 

"  Edward  and  George  Preston,  and 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN". 


141 


Mary  Tompkins  and  Alice  Ambrose, 
alias  Gary,  passed  eastward  to  visit  the 
seed  of  God  in  those  parts,  and  in  their 
way  through  Newbury,  they  went  into 
the  house  of  one  John  Emery,  (a  friend- 
ly man) ,  who  with  his  wife  seemed 
glad  to  receive  them,  at  whose  house 
they  found  freedom  to  stay  all  night, 
and  when  the  next  morning  came  the 
priest,  Thomas  Parker,  and  many  of 
his  followers  came  to  the  man's  house, 
and  much  reasoning  and  dispute  there 
was  about  truth ;  but  the  priest's  and 
many  of  the  people's  ears  were  shut 
against  the  truth.  And  in  the  time  of 
their  discourse,  the  wind  striving  in 
Mary  Tompkin's  stomach,  making  some 
noise,  she  having  received  no  sustenance 
for  the  space  of  near  forty-eight  hours, 
one  Joseph  Pike,  after  the}'  were  depart- 
ed the  town  said  'she  had  a  devil  in  her.' 
After  a  while  the  priest  perceiving  that 
the  battle  might  be  too  hard  for  him, 
rose  up,  and  took  the  man  of  the  house 
and  his  wife  out  of  doors  with  him, 
and  began  to  deal  with  them  for  enter- 
taining such  dangerous  people.  They 
replied  they  were  required  to  entertain 
strangers.  The  priest  said  it  was  dan- 
gerous entertaining  such  as  had  plague 
sores  upon  them..  Which  the  women 
hearing,  b'egan  to  take  the  priest  to  do 
for  saying  such  false,  wicked  and  ma- 
licious words,  but  he  hasted  away.  Ma- 
ry Tompkins  called  him  to  come  back 
again,  and  not  to  show  himself  to  be 
one  of  those  hirelings  that  flee  and 
leave  their  flocks  behind  them,  but  he 
would  not." 

It  appears  by  the  following,  that  John 
Emery  was  not  completely  over-awed 
by  the  good  but  mistaken  Parker : 

•'The testimony  of  Henry  Jaquesaged 
about  44  years,  saith,  that  I  heard  Jo- 
seph Noyes  say,  that  after  that  time 
that  the  Quakers  had  their  meeting  at 
John  Emery's,  that  he  saw  two  Qua- 
kers at  John  Emery's  house,  and 
John  Emery  bade  them  welcome,  and 
further  saith  that  I  heard  Joseph  Noyes 
say,  that  John  Emery  had  entertained 
Quakers,  both  to  bed  and  table,  after 
the  time  they  had  their  meeting  at  J  ohn 


Emery's  house,  and  this  he  testified  be- 
fore the  church  at  Newbury,  and  farth- 
er I  do  testify  that  I  heard  John  Em- 
ery and  his  wife  say  that  he  had  enter- 
tained Quakers  and  that  he  would  not 
put  them  from  his  house,  and  used  ar- 
gument for  the  lawfulness  of  it. 

HENRY  JAQUES. 

Sworn  in  Court,  May  7,  1663, 

Before  Robert  Lord,  Clerk." 

[This  Henry  Jaques  wras  a  constable 
of  Newbury.] 

"The  Deposition  of  Joseph  Noyes, 
aged  26  years  : 

This  Deponent  saith  yt  as  he  was 
agoing  to  Goodman  Emerie's  sen.,  he 
overtook  two  wromen  Quakers,  and  sup- 
posing they  would  call  at  ye  house  of 
ye  forementioned  Emmery,  he  desired 
him  not  to  entertain  ym.  But  whilst 
he  was  in  discourse,  the}-  came  into  ye 
house,  and  staid  until  he  went  away. 
Goodman  Emmery  was  in  ye  chamber, 
(as  he  knows,  because  he  ym  upon 
an  occasion  called  out  to  his  wife) 
his  wife  being  in  ye  same  room  with  ye 
Quakers,  at  his  house  wn  Mr.  Parker 
was  yr.  Farther  he  had  understood  by 
those  yt  wr  eye-witnesses,  yt  two  men 
Quakers  wr  yr  entertained  very  kindly 
to  bed  and  table,  &  John  Emmerie 
shook  ym  by  ye  hand  and  bid  ym  wel- 
come. Ye  substance  of  ys  he  or  his 
wife  in  his  presence  told  him  and 
owned  it,  (according  to  his  best  remem- 
brance) more  yn  once.  This  also  ws 
severl  days  after  ye  meeting  above 
said. 

Taken  upon  Oath  24,  4th,  67, 
before  me,  Simon  Bradstree't." 

At  this  period  one  can  scarcely  de- 
pict the  commotion  such  an  incident 
must  have  caused  in  the  secluded  and 
quiet  settlement  of  Quascacunquen,  on 
the  banks  of  the  winding  Parker,  or 
appreciate  the  courage  evinced  by  John 
Emery  and  his  wife  in  thus  rising  above 
popular  prejudice,  and  fanatical  bigotry 
and  intolerance. 

The  Quaker  guests,  Mary  Tompkins 
and  Alice  Ambrose,  came  from  Eng- 


142 


KEMESTISCEISrCES 


land  to  Boston,  with  George  Preston  in 
1662.  These  women  in  company  with 
a  third,  Anna  Colman,  on  their  visit  to 
the  "seed  of  God"  in  New  Hampshire, 
aroused  the  indignation  of  the  authori- 
ties, and  Capt.  Richard  Waldron  of 
Dover  was  impowered  to  act  in  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  laws  against  ' '  the  wick- 
ed errors  of  Quakers,"  upon  which  he 
issued  the  following  proclamation  : 

"To  the  Constables  of  Dover,  Hamp- 
ton, Salisbury,  Newbmy,  Rowley,  Ips- 
wich, Windham,  Lynn,  Boston,  Rox- 
bury,  Declham,  and  until  these  vaga- 
bond Quakers  are  out  of  our  jurisdic- 
tion." 

"You  and  -every  one  of  you  are  re- 
quired in  the  King's  Majesty's  name  to 
take  these  vagabond  Quakers,  Anna 
Colman,  Maiy  Tompkins,  and  Alice 
Ambrose,  that  they  be  stripped  naked 
from  the  middle  upwards,  and  make 
them  fast  to  the  cart's  tail,  and  drawing 
the  cart  through  the  several  towns,  to 
whip  them  upon  their  naked  backs  not 
exceeding  ten  stripes  apiece  on  each  of 
them  in  each  town,  and  so  convey  them 
from  constable  to  constable  till  they 
are  out  of  this  jurisdiction,  as  you  will 
answer  it  at  }~our  peril  and  this  shall  be 
your  warrent. 

Per  me, 
RICHARD  WALDRON," 

Dover,  Dec.  22,  1662. 

This  order  was  executed  in  Dover, 
Hampton,  and  Salisbur}7 ;  but  through 
the  intervention  of  Walter  Barefoot, 
Deputy  Governor  of  New  Hampshire, 
Newbury  escaped  the  disgrace  of  such 
an  act  of  cruelty.  On  pretence  of  de- 
livering the  persecuted  females  to  the 
constables  of  Newbuiy,  Gov.  Barefoot 
took  them  from  the  New  Hampshire 
constables,  and  secured  them  from  fur- 
ther molestation  b}'  sending  them  out 
of  the  Province. 

In  October,  1657,  the  General  Court 
had  ordered  that  the  penalty  for  enter- 


taining Quakers  should  be  forty  shil- 
lings. In  1659,  Thomas  Mac}r,  one  of 
the  first  settlers  of  Newbury,  but  at 
that  time  a  resident  of  Salisbury,  was 
summoned  to  appear  before  the  Gener- 
al Court,  for  violating  the  above  law. 
Instead  of  complying,  he  sent  a  letter 
of  which  the  following  is  a  cop}r : 

' '  This  is  to  entreat  the  honored  court 
not  to  be  offended  because  of  my  non- 
appearance.  It  is  not  from  slighting 
the  authority  of  this  honored  court,  nor 
from  feare  to  answer  the  case  ;  but  I 
have  bin  for  some  weeks  past,  very  ill, 
and  am  so  at  present,  and  notwithstand- 
ing my  illness,  yet  I,  desirous  to  ap- 
pear, have  done  my  utmost  endeavor 
to  hire  a  horse,  but  I  cannot  procure 
one  at  present ;  I  being  at  present  des- 
titute have  endeavored  to  purchase,  but 
at  present  cannot  attaine  it,  but  I  shall 
relate  the  truth  of  the  case  as  my  an- 
swer should  be  to  ye  honored  court, 
and  more  cannot  be  proved,  nor  so 
much.  On  a  rainy  morning  there  came 
to  nry  house  Edward  Wharton  and 
three  men  more ;  the  said  Wharton 
spoke  to  me  saying  that  they  were  trav- 
elling eastward,  and  desired  me  to  di- 
rect them  in  the  way  to  Hampton,  and 
asked  me  how  far  it  was  to  Casco  bay. 
I  never  saw  airy  of  ye  men  afore  except 
'\Yharton,  neither  did  1  require  their 
names,  or  who  the}'  were,  but  by  their 
carriage  I  thought  they  might  be  qua- 
kers,  and  told  them  so,  and  therefore 
desired  them  to  pass  on  their  way,  say- 
ing to  them  I  might  possibly  give  of- 
fence in  entertaining  them  ;  as  soon  as 
the  violence  of  the  rain  ceased  (for  it 
rained  veiy  hard) ,  they  went  awa}',  and 
I  never  saw  them  since.  The  time 
that  they  were  in  the  house  was  about 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  but  I  can 
safely  affirme  it  was  not  an  houre. 
Thej-  spake  not  many  words  in  the  time, 
neither  was  I  at  leisure  to  talke  with 
them,  for  I  came  home  wet  to  ye  skin 
immediately  afore  the}'  came  to  the 
house,  and  I  found  my  wife  sick  in  bed. 
If  this  satisfie  not  the  honored  court,  I 
shall  subject  to  their  sentence  ;  I  have 


OF   A 


143 


not  willingly  offended,  I  am  ready  to 
serve  and  obe}'  you  in  the  Lord. 

THO.  MACY." 

Notwithstanding  this  explanation  and 
apology,  Mr.  Macy  was  fined  thirty 
shillings,  and  was  ordered  to  be  admon- 
ished by  the  governor.  Tradition  in- 
forms us  that  Thomas  Macy,  immedi- 
ately after  his  sentence,  with  his  family 
repaired  to  Nantuckct  in  an  open  boat, 
being  one  of  the  first  English  settlers 
on  that  island,  where  he  passed  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life.  This  .  incident, 
Whittier  has  woven  into  one  of  his 
most  charming  ballads. 

Two  of  the  Quakers  who  received 
shelter  in  Thomas  Macy's  house,  Wil- 
liam Robinson  and  Marmaduke  Ste- 
phenson,  were  hung  at  Boston,  Decem- 
ber 27,  1659. 

There  is  more  "truth  than  poetry" 
in  Jay's  '•  Innocency's  Complaint," 
where  he  writes,  "The  making  laws 
for  to  ensnare  the  just  of  God,  is  hated 
and  to  be  accurst.  The  Massachusetts 
is  alike  for  crime  unto  Judea  in  Christ 
Jesus'  time.  Here  laws  are  extant 
that  doth  terrify  well-meaning  men  and 
Liberty  deny.  Here  innocents  are 
fined,  whipt  and  branded,  ears  cropped, 
some  sold  for  slaves,  some  lashed,  some 
hanged.  Whoever  is  contrary  to  them 
found,  tho'  in  his  spirit,  their  fine  must 
be  five  pounds,  or  else  three  days  in 
jail  ere  a  discharge,  and  with  a  ten- 
lashed  whipping  be  enlarged." 

The  following,  respecting  the  enter- 
tainment of  Dr.  Henry  Greenland, 
Newbury's  earliest  physician,  has  been 
found  among  the  -Massachusetts  ar- 
chives : 

Copy  of  the  Petition  of  John  Emery, 
sen.,  of  Newbury  to  the  Massachusetts 
General  Court,  in  relation  to  his  fine 
for  "Entertaining  Strangers,"  1663. 


May  21,  1663. 

To  the  honord  Generall  Court  now 
assembled  at  Boston  —  the  Humble  pe- 
tition of  John  Emery  humbly  showethe 
That  your  Petitioner  dwelling  in  New- 
bury,  It  so  fell  out  by  Providence  of 
God  that  a  certain  Gentleman  (named 
Mr.  Henry  Greenland)  coming  from 
England  upon  his  occasion  was  by  rea- 
son of  his  acquaintance  with  Capt. 
Barefoot  &c.  inclinable  to  settle  in  ye 
Country  if  hee  liked,  and  to  make  use 
of  his  practise  of  Physic  and  Chirur- 
gery  amongst  us  ;  But  being  as  yet  un- 
settled &  oncertanie  where  to  fix  untill 
his  wife  (whom  hee  hath  sent  for)  did 
come  By  Reason  of  some  employment 
by  3*e  Providence  of  God  presented  it- 
self to  him ;  hee  was  necissarily  put 
upon  it  to  reside  neer  such  Patients 
as  had  put  themselves  into  his  hands 
for  Cure :  Among  which  one  being 
more  than  ordinarily  disordered  Hee 
Desired  entertainment.  And  jour  Pe- 
titioner did  for  Reason  above  men- 
tioned Receive  and  entertain  him  this 
winter  past  for  which*  I  am  fined  four 
Pounds  by  ye  hon'rd  Court  at  Ipswich 
for  Breach  of  a  Law  ;  not  having  [at 
first]  License  under  the  hand  of  a  mag- 
istrate :  hee  himselfe  being  a  stranger 
and  not  knowing  the  Law,  nor  your  Pe- 
titioner —  the  Humble  request  of  your 
Petitioner  is  ;  That  this  honobl  Court 
would  bee  Pleased  to  remit  ye  saide 
fine  (it  being  not  done  in  Contempt 
but  only  as  necessarily  occasioned  as 
above  sd.)  wherein  ye  Gentleman  hath 
by  God's  .blessing  been  furthered  & 
been  of  much  good  by  his  calling  ;  Both 
in  Physick  and  Chirurgery  and  your 
pore  Petitioner  shall  ever  Praj". 

We  the  Selectmen  &  such  others  as 
are  subscribed,  Considering  the  useful- 
ness of  Mr.  Greenlands  in  respect  of 
his  practice  in  our  towne,  do  humbly 
desire  the  same  if  this  hon'd  court 
please. 


John  Pike, 
Richard  Thurlo, 

Thomas 
Peter  Godrie, 
James  Ordway, 
Lionel  Worth, 


Abraham  Toppan, 
John  Bayley, 

Sam  Pore, 
Edw.  Richardson, 
Robere  Coker, 
Richard  Fits, 


144 


REMENTSCEXCES 


John  Cheney,  Jun., 

Robert 

John  \Vilcutt, 

Kobt  Adams, 

Lanslet  Granger, 

Will 

Anthony  Short, 

John  Knight, 

John 

Rich 

Brown, 
Peter  Toppan, 
Jeremy  Gutiidge, 
William 

Stephen 

Saml 

Thomas  Hale,  Jun., 

John  Poore,  Senor. 


Stephen  Swett, 
Anthony  Morse,  sen., 
Willi 

Richard  Loell, 
Anhony  Sumerbee, 
John  Mearell, 

Abell  Huse, 
John  Cheney,  sen'r, 
James  Jackraan, 
Joseph  Pluraer 
John  Parker,  Senior, 
John  Jun., 

Thomas  Brown, 
William  Titcomb, 
Richard  Bartlet, 
Thomas 
Wilum  Morse, 
Josif  Tainey, 

2,  3,  63.  The  Magts  have  consid- 
ered the  grounds  of  this  Petr ;  &  con- 
sent not  to  any  reversion  of  the  coun. 
Court's  sentence. 

THO.  DANFORTH,  P.  E.  R.  S. 
Consented  to  by  ye  depety  provided 
they  may  have  ye  ten  shillings  agayne. 

WILLIAM  TORREY,  Clerk. 
The  Magists  Consentyes, 

ED^  :  RAWSON,  Secry." 

This  ancient  document  being  much 
worn,  some  of  the  names  are  in  part, 
or  wholly  illegible. 

In  1669,  the  ecclesiastical  difficulties 
by  which  the  town  had  been  for  some 
time  agitated,  arose  to  such  a  height, 
that  an  appeal  to  the  civil  authority 
was  considered  necessary.  The  cause 
of  this  disturbance  was  a  change  of 
sentiment,  which  Messrs.  Parker  and 
Noyes  manifested  respecting  church 
government  and  discipline. 

Johnson,  in  his  "Wonder-working 
Providence "  says  :  "The  teaching  eld- 
ers of  Newbury  have  carried  it  very 
lovingly  toward  their  people,  permit- 
ting them  to  assist  in  admitting  of  per- 
sons into  the  church  society,  and  in 
church  censure,  so  long  as  they  act  reg- 
ularly, but  in  case  of  maladministration 
the}-  assume  the  power  wholly  to  them- 
selves." 


Johnson  very  well  expi'essed  the 
principles  of  church  discipline  held  by 
Messrs.  Parker  and  Noyes,  principles 
which  engendered  a  controversy  that 
was  not  settled  until  a  short  time  prior 
to  Mr.  Parker's  death  in  1677.  A  ma- 
jority of  the  church  demanded  as  a 
right,  what  the  pastor  and  teacher 
"lovingly  permitted"  as  a  favor,  and 
believing  that  the  church  in  its  corpo- 
rate capacity  had  a  right,  and  therefore 
were  under  a  sacred  obligation  to  man- 
age its  own  affairs,  they  contended 
most  strenuously  against  their  elders 
assuming  the  powers  wholly  to  them- 
selves. 

October  22d,  1656,  "Mr.  Noise,  the 
blessed  light  of  Newbury,  died."  Of 
his  uncle,  the  Rev.  Nicholas  Noyes  thus 
writes  :  ' '  The}'  who  differed  from  him 
in  smaller  matters  as  to  discipline,  held 
a  most  amicable  correspondence  with 
hun."  During  Mr.  Noyes'  lifetime, 
there  was  no  serious  difficulty  in  the 
church.  After  the  return  of  Mr.  John 
Woodbridge  from  England  in  1663,  he 
was  employed  by  the  town  to  assist  his 
uncle  Parker  in  preaching,  at  a  salary 
of  sixty  pounds  per  annum,  until  1670, 
when  the  town  agreed  to  dispense  with 
his  services.  From  1665  to  1669,  the 
church  and  town  were  in  a  most  excited 
and  uncouciliatory  state,  being  about 
equally  divided,  one  part}'  adhering  to 
Mr.  Parker,  while  the  opposition  were 
led  by  Mr.  Edward  Woodman,  a  man 
of  talents,  influence,  firmness,  and  de- 
cision, and  from  him  were  styled  Mr. 
Woodman's  party.  This  gentleman  af- 
firmed ' '  that  Mr.  Parker  would  set  up 
a  prelacy,  and  have  more  power  than 
the  pope,  for  the  pope  had  his  council 
of  cardinals."  Both  John  Emery,  sen., 
and  his  son,  John  Emery,  jr.,  joined 
Mr.  Woodman's  party.  The  following 


OF   A 


145 


is   extracted  from  the  records  of  the 
court  at  Salem  : — 

"I,  John  Pike,  do  testifie  that  I  was 
present  at  the  gathering  of  the  church 
at  Newbuiy,  and  I  did  hear  our  rever- 
and  pastor  preach  a  sermon  on  the 
eighteenth  of  Matthevt,  seventeenth 
verse,  'and  if  he  neglect  to  hear  them, 
tell  it  unto  the  church ;  but  if  he  neg- 
lect to  hear  the  church,  let  him  be  unto 
thee  as  an  heathen  man  and  a  publican,' 
wherein  he  did  hould  forth  that  the 
power  of  discipline  belonged  to  the 
whole  church,  yt  the  matter  of  the 
church  ought  to  be  visible  saints  jo}-ned 
or  gathered  together,  that  the  manner 
of  their  joj'ning  together  ought  to  be 
by  covenant,  yt  the  end  of  it  is  for  the 
exercisingo  and  enjoyinge  of  the  ordin- 
ances of  Christ  togeather.  He  strongly 
proved  his  doctrine  by  many  places  of 
the  Scripture,  both  in  the  old  and  new 
testament.  The  which  sermon  togeath- 
er with  the  Scriptures  did  much  instruct 
and  confirme  us  in  that  waye  of  church 
discipline  which  as  I  understood  he 
then  preached  for,  namely  the  congre- 
gational wave,  some  noates  of  the  said 
sermon,  which  I  then  took  from  his 
mouth,  I  have  here  ready  to  shew  if 
you  please.  The  sermon  being  ended 
the  brethren  joyned  together  by  express 
covenant,  and  being  joyned  they  chose 
their  pastor  Mr.  Parker,  who  accepted 
the  call,  and  joyned  with  them  accord- 
ing to  the  covenant  aforesaid ;  and 
those  that  afterward  jo3"ncd  to  the 
church,  consented  to  the  said  covenant 
explicit.  The  brethren  of  the  church 
acted  in  these  admissions  of  ye  members, 
expressing^  their  voats  therein  b}^  lift- 
ing up  the  hande,  and  soe  continued 
together  lovingly  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  yeares  untill  other  doctrine  be- 
gan to  be  preached  amongst  us. 

Per  me,  JOHN  PIKE. 

Sworne  in  court  30  March,  1669." 

"Robert  Pike  also  testifies  that  the 
meeting  was  on  the  Sabbath  in  the 
open  air  under  a  tree." 

"At  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Parker 
was  chosen  pastor,  Mr.  James  Noyes 
was  chosen  teacher." 


Similar  testimonies  were  give  by  John 
Emery  and  Thomas  Browne. 

Tradition  asserts  that  the  tree  under 
which  this  first  sermon  was  preached 
was  a  majestic  oak,  which  stood  on  the 
north  bank  of  the  river  Parker,  about 
a  hundred  yards  below  the  present 
bridge. 

After  a  series  of  trials  and  appeals, 
and  a  council  of  the  neighboring  elders 
and  churches,  which  was  convened 
Nov.  3d,  1669,  the  controversy  was  fi- 
nally settled  at  the  court  at  Ipswich, 
May  29th,  1671,  "which  adjudged  the 
said  Mr.  Woodman,  and  part}'  adhering 
to  him,  to  pay  the  several  fines  under- 
written, with  the  charge  of  the  witnes- 
ses, and  fees  of  court,  and  that  the}'  all 
stand  committed  till  the  said  fines, 
charges  and  fees  be  satisfied  and  paid. 

Mr.  Edward  Woodman,  twenty  no- 
bles ;  Mr.  Richard  Dummer,  Richard 
Thorlay,  Stephen  Greenleaf,  Richard 
Bartlet,  and  William  Titcomb,  four  no- 
bles each ;  Francis  Plumer,  John  Em- 
ery, sen.,  John  Emery,  jun.,  John 
Merrill,  and  Thomas,  Browne,  a  mark 
each ;  Nicholas  Batt,  Anthony  Morse, 
senior,  Abraham  Toppan,  William  Saw- 
}-er,  Edward  Woodman,  junior,  John 
Webster,  John  Bartlet,  senior,  John 
Bartlett,  junior,  Joseph  Plumer,  Ed- 
ward Richardson,  Thomas  Hale,  junior, 
Edmund  Moores,  Benjamin  Lowle,  Job 
Pilsbury,  John  Wells,  William  Ilsley, 
James  Ordwaj7,  Francis  Thorla}',  Abra- 
ham Merrill,  John  Bailej-,  Benjamin 
Rolfe,  Steven  Swett,  and  Samuel  Plum- 
er, a  noble  each ;  Robert  Coker.  and 
William  Moody  were  not  fined." 

A  noble  is  six  shillings  and  eight- 
pence  ;  a  mark,  thirteen  shillings  and 
fourpence. 

The  following  are  the  names  of  Mr. 
Parker's  party  : 
19 


146 


REMTNUSCENC'ES 


Mr.  John  Woodbridge,  Capt.  Paul 
White,  Mr.  Henry  Sewall,  Richard 
Kent,  John  Kent,  Henry  Short,  Daniel 
Price,  senior,  Richard  Knight,  John 
Kelley,  John  Knight,  Henry  Jaques, 
Thomas  Hale,  senior,  Robert  Adams, 
Abel  Huse,  George  Little,  Samuel 
Moody.  William  Chandler,  Mr.  Nicho- 
las No}-es,  Nicholas  Wallington,  Capt. 
William  Gerrish,  Mr.  Percival  Lowle, 
James  Kent,  Robert  Long,  Richard 
Pettingell,  William  Morse,  John  Davis, 
John  Smith,  James  Smith,  James  Jack- 
man,  Joseph  Muzzey,  Richard  Dole, 
Anthony  Somerby,  Nathaniel  Clark. 
Tristram  Coffin,  Nicholas  N  03-68,  senior, 
Thomas  Tarvill,  Mr.  John  Gerrish. 

Though  during  this  controversy, 
George  Little  adhered  to  his  pastor,  in 
company  with  Philip  Squire,  Nathaniel 
Cheney,  William  Sa}-er  and  wife,  Ben- 
jamin Morse  and  wife,  Mr.  Edward 
Woodman  and  wife,  John  Saver  and 
Abel  Merrill,  he  joined  the  Baptist 
church  at  Boston,  and  in  1682  that 
church  assented  to  the  formation  of  a 
Baptist  church  in  Newbury.  This 
church  never  gained  many  converts, 
and  it  was  too  few  in  numbers  to  long 
maintain  a  separate  existence. 

In  1654,  "John  Emery  was  chosen 
to  answer  at  the  next  court  at  Ipswich, 
concerning  the  presentment  about  the 
way  to  Andover." 

April  10,  1644.  "There  was  laid  out 
to  John  Emer}-,  jun.,  four-score  akers 
of  upland,  bee  it  more  or  lesse  joining 
unto  Merrimacke  river  on  the  north, 
and  running  from  the  mouth  of  Arti- 
choke river,  unto  a  marked  tree  by  a 
swampe  on  the  north-west  corner,  being 
about  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  rods 
long  at  the  head  of  the  cove,  thence 
about  a  hundred  rods  to  the  south- 
east corner,  thence  running  a  strait 


lyne  about  a  hundred  and  fifty-six 
rods  to  Artichoke  river  on  the  east 
about  eighty  rods  broad." 

March  3.  1679,  the  town  granted  to 
Sergeant  John  Emery  twelve  acres  of 
land  on  the  west  side  of  Artichoke  riv- 
er, "provided  he  build  and  maintain.* 
corn  mill,  to  grind  the  town's  corn  from 
time  to  time,  and  to  build  it  within  one 
}-ear  and  a  half  after  the  date  hereof," 
and  so  forth.  This  farm  is  still  owned 
by  the  descendants  of  John  Emery,  jr. 
John  Emery,  senior,  passed  the  latter 
part  of  his  life  there  ;  he  died  Nov.  3, 
1683,  aged  85. 

A  portion  of  the  estate  of  David 
Emery,  above,  on  the  main  road,  is 
still  in  the  possession  of  his  descend- 
ants, and  there  is  a  wood  lot  owned 
in  my  family  which  was  purchased  with 
money  inherited  from  that  ancestor. 

Jonathan  Emery,  the  j-oungest  son 
of  John  Emery,  senior,  fought  through 
King  Philip's  war,  with  the  renowned 
"Flower  of  Essex."  He  belonged  to 
Major  Appleton's  company,  which  was 
considered  the  ci'ack  company  of  the 
Small  arm}-.  In  the  archives  at  the 
state-house,  Boston,  is  the  original  mus- 
ter-roll of  the  compan}-,  and  it  is  there 
recorded:  "  Jonathan  Emery,  wounded 
in  the  neck."  This  wound,  from  an 
Indian  arrow,  was  received  at  the  cap- 
ture of  the  fort  in  Narraganset,  Dec. 
19,  1675. 

This  was  a  terrible  battle,  the  most 
sanguinary  of  the  campaign.  The  In- 
dians had  built  a  fort  in  the  Narragau- 
set  country.  Within  a  strong  palisade 
of  timber  were  nearly  five  hundred  wig- 
wams, sheltering  nearly  five  thousand 
persons,  with  great  store  of  provisions. 
The  cold  was  intense,  and  the  air  filled 
with  a  frosty  rime,  as  our  brave  little 
army  drew  near  to  the  great  swamp. 


OF   A   KO^AGEIsTAEIA]Sr. 


147 


Around  the  fated  hamlet,  outside  the 
palisade,  was  a  high  barricade  of  felled 
trees,  almost  or  quite  impossible  to 
climb,  and  a  nearly  impenetrable  thick- 
et of  swamp  wood  ;  surrounding  these 
defences  was  a  broad  moat  filled  with 
water,  which  could  only  be  crossed  by 
passing  over  a  large  tree  placed  by  the 
Indians  for  a  bridge.  At  about  one 
o'clock  p.  m.  our  bold  men  began  the 
attack.  Though  they  were  obliged  to 
pass  over  that  tree  trunk  single  file,  in 
the  face  of  a  terrible  fire  from  the  ene- 
my, which  sent  man}-  a  man  instantly 
to  his  death,  they  persisted,  again  and 
again.  Six  of  our  captains  were  killed 
and  a  proportionate  number  of  men, 
before  a  few  of  the  brave  soldiers  ef- 
fected an  entrance  into  the  five- acre 
enclosure  of  the  Indians.  Here  the 
slaughter  was  hand  to  hand,  with  horri- 
ble odds  against  the  invaders.  Never- 
the-less,  the}-  won  the  day.  The  cry 
that  the  Indians  were  flying  rallied  our 
men  outside,  who  had  recoiled  some- 
what from  the  death-line  of  the  tree. 
The  Indians  were  left  dead  in  heaps 
"  upon  ye  snow."  The  wigwams  were 
soon  in  flames,  and  several  hundred  of 
the  hapless  children  of  the  forest  per- 
ished in  the  fire ;  other  hundreds 
were  taken  prisoners,  while  the  great 
Philip  barely  escaped.  Our  army  lost 
about  eighty  killed  and  nearly  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  wounded.  The  total  loss 
of  the  Indians  was  computed  at  about 
a  thousand.  After  this  fearful  combat 
our  people  marched  seventeen  or  eigh- 
teen miles  "  in  a  most  horrid  and  bois- 
terous night,"  before  the  wounded 
could  be  cared  for.  Several  of  our 
dead  were  left  in  the  burning  ruins  of 
the  fort.  The  sufferings  "  of  the  Eng- 
lish after  this  fight  have  hardly  a  paral- 
lel in  history."  What,  then,  must  have 


been  the  sufferings  of  the  Indians? 
The  English  lions  won  their  victory,  at 
great  cost  of  pain  and  blood,  over  the 
Indian  tigers. 

Jonathan  Emery  after 
his  return  from  the  war 
used  this  seal,  which  he 
probably  had  engraved 
to  commemorate  his 
deeds  and  sufferings.  The  Lion  repre- 
senting the  bold  Briton  inspiring  terror, 
the  arrow  seized  by  the  rampant  beast, 
the  emblem  of  Indian  warfare,  which 
from  its  position  indicates  the  Lion's 
victory,  The  decendants  of  John  jr. 
and  Jonathan  Emery  have  become 
widely  scattered,  Many  have  been, 
and  are  still  counted  amongst  the  prom- 
inent men  and  women  of  the  country. 
The  name  has  been,  and  still  is,  well 
represented,  amongst  the  clergy,  at  the 
bar,  in  the  medical  profession,  in  the 
military,  literary  and  mercantile  walks 
of  life.  Some  of  the  family  have  ex- 
celled in  mechanics,  and  in  an  unusual 
degree  as  a  race,  the}1  possess  the  tal- 
ent of  a  "ready  writer." 

The  spirit  of  emigration  decended 
from  the  sires.  Several  of  the  family 
pressing  into  the  wilderness,  founded, 
what  are  now  flourishing  towns.  Mo- 
ses Emery,  a  great  grandson  of  John 
Emery  jr.  was  the  first  settler  at  Minot, 
Maine.  Edward  Emery,  seventh  son 
of  Jonathan  Emery,  married  a  Miss 
Sarah  Sibley  and  settled  at  Contoocook 
(now  Boscawen,  N.  H,)  in  1734  or 
thereabouts.  In  1740  he  was  one  of  a 
committee  there  to  secure  a  minister 
for  the  plantation.  He  was  killed  by 
the  Indians  while  hunting  beaver  at 
Newfound  Lake,  in  1756.  Ezekiel 
Flanders  his  companion  was  also  slain 
by  the  savages.  Anthony  Emery,  third 
son  of  John  and  Hannah  Emery,  grad- 


148 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


uated  from  Harvard  College  in  1736. 
He  was  surgeon  in  the  English  arm}'  at 
the  capture  of  Louisburg.  and  was  the 
first  physician  at  Chelmsford,  Mass., 
then  at  Hampton  N.  H.,  where  he  died, 
Aug.  19th,  1781,  aged  67.  Dr.  Emery 

O  '         O  • 

was  one  of  the  proprietors  of  Andover 
N.  H.,  which  for  some  time  bore  the 
designation  of  "Emery  Town."  His 
son  William  settled  on  his  father's  land, 
being  the  third  settler  in  the  town.  His 
son,  Captain  Anthoiry  Emery  succeeded 
on  the  paternal  acres,  where  he  was 
distinguished  as  a  sheep-grower.  He 
kept  more  sheep,  sold  more  mutton,  and 
procured  the  manufacture  of  more  of 
the  old-fashioned  coverlets,  than  any 
three  men  in  his  count}'. 

Rev.  Samuel  Emery,  born  in  New- 
bury  Dec.  20th,  1670,  graduated  at 
Harvard  in  1691,  and  was  ordained  in 
Wells,  Me.,  the  29th  of  October  1701, 
he  died  Dec.  18th,  1724. 

Rev.  Stephen  Emery  was  born  in 
Newbury,  graduated  at  Harvard  in 
1730  ;  was  soon  after  settled  over  the 
societ}T  in  Nottingham,  N.  H. 

Thomas  Emery,  son  of  David  Emery, 
sen.,  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1768, 
and  studied  medicine  ;  he  died  Nov. 
21st,  1772.  aged  22,  leaving  one  son, 
Thomas  Emen*,  who  married  first  a 
daughter  of  the  Rev.  Moses  Hale  of 
the  lower  parish,  by  whom  he  had  three 
sons,  Flavius,  Charles  and  Moses ; 
his  second  wife  was  Margaret,  widow  of 
Joseph  Coflin,  of  Old  town. 

Rev.  Samuel  M.  Emery,  son  of 
Moody  and  Abigail  Emery,  of  New- 
bury, nowr  West  Newbury,  born  April 
10th,  1804,  graduated  at  Harvard  in 
1830,  received  the  Master's  degree  at 
Trinity  college;  Hartford,  Conn.,  and 
several  years  after  the  honorary  degree 
of  D.  D.,  from  the  same.  He  was  or- 


dained Deacon  in  Trinity  church,  Bos- 
ton, in  July,  1835,  and  soon  afterwards 
receiven  a  call  to  Trinity  church,  Port- 
land, Conn.,  wrhere  he  was  ordahfed 
priest.  He  remained  rector  of  that 
parish  until  August,  1870, —  nearly 
thirt}'-five  3'ears.  Since  then  he  has 
retired  from  the  active  duties  of  the 
ministry.  He  married  Mary  Hale,  only 
child  of  Eliphalet  Emery,  Esq.  of  the 
Artichoke  river  farm,  and  grand- 
daughter of  the  Rev.  Moses  Hale. 

Rev.  Samuel  Hopkins  Emery,  bom 
Aug.  22d,  1815  ;  graduated  at  Amherst 
in  1834  ;  at  Andover  Theological  Sem- 
inar}- in  1837  ;  was  ordained  at  Taun- 
ton,  Mass.,  Nov.  23d,  1837  ;  pastor  at 
Quincy,  111.,  and  Bedford,  Mass.  ; 
stated  supply  at  Chicago.  Providence, 
Bridgeport,  Ct.,  and  North  Middle- 
borough,  Mass.  ;  now  city  missionary, 
and  minister  of  Cedar  .street  chapel, 
Taunton,  Mass.  ;  married,  March  7th, 
1838,  Julia  Reed  of  Taunton. 

Rev.  Joshua  Emery,  born  in  New- 
buryport  Aug.  1807,  graduated  at  Am- 
herst in  1831  ;  at  Andover  Theological 
Seminary  in  1834  ;  was  ordained  pastor 
of  Calvanistic  Congregational  Church, 
Fitchburg  Mass.,  May  13th  1835;  was 
called  to  First  Church  (old  North)  Wey- 
inouth,  Mass.,  Dec.  1837.  and  insl ail- 
ed pastor  Jan.  25th,  1838  ;  retired  from 
active  service  in  1873.  He  marred 
May  19th,  J835,  Hariet,  daughter  of 
Jacob  Peabody,  of  Salem.  Mass. 

Horace  Brown,  son  of  Hayden  and 
Hariet  (Emery)  Brown,  and  grandson  of 
Moses  Emery,  born  in  West  Newbury 
Aug.  31st,  1851,  was  fitted  for  college 
at  Phillip's  Academy,  Exeter  and  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  in  1.S72,  and  the 
Harvard  Law  School,  in  1874.  He 
began  the  practice  of  his  profession  in 
the  office  of  Ives  &  Lincoln,  Salem, 


OF   A 


Mass.,  July  7th,  1874  ;  was  admitted  to 
the  United  States  Supreme  Court  Jan. 
1878  ;  was  elected  to  the  State  Legis- 
lature, to  represent  the  city  of  Salem, 
Nov.  5th,  1878  ;  is  a  member  of  the 
Essex  Institute,  and  of  the  American 
Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Science. 

Samuel  E.  Emery  D.  D.  S;,  son  of 
Rev.  Samuel  M.  Emery,  D.  D.,  was 
born  at  Portland,  Conn.,  April  10th 
1852.  Graduated  at  the  Boston  Den- 
tal College  1876.  A  practising  dentist 
in  Newburyport. 

Flavius  Emery,  son  of  Thomas  and 
Elizabeth  (Hale)Elmery,  married  Eliz- 
abeth Emery,  daughter  of  3 foody  and 
Abigail  Emery,  of  West  Newbmy, 
Nov.  1  1826.  Their  son,  Rufus  Emery, 
born  July  25th,  1827 ;  graduated  at 
Trinity  college,  Hartford,  Conn.,  in 

1854  ;  was  tutor  in  the  Institution  from 

1855  to  1857.     He  graduated  at  the 
Berkley  Divinity  school  in  Middle  town, 
Conn.,    in    1858;  took  charge  of  the 
church    in    Southport,    Conn.,    where, 
Aug.   5th,   he  was  ordained  priest,  re- 
maining over  the  society  about  twelve 
vears.     lie  married  Adelaide,  daughter 
of  Erastus  and  Mary  W.   Brainerd,  of 
Portland.'  Conn.,    Nov.     17th,     1858. 
Having  resigned  the  parish  of  Trinity 
church,  Southport,   he  officiated  some 
two  years  in  Calvary  Church,  Stoning- 
ton,  Conn.,  when  he  accepted  a  call  to 
the   rectorship    of  St.    Paul's   Church 
Newburg,  N.  Y. 

Emery  is  both  an  ancient  and  an 
historic  name.  In  the  "Doom's  Day 
Book,"  1086,  those  of  the  Norman 
French  family  D'Amery,  who  fol- 
lowed the  Conqueror  to  England,  are 
recorded  as  landed  proprietors  in  Ox- 
ford and  Devon,  in  the  mediaeval  Latin 
as  Haimericus.  At  present  the  Emery s 


\ 

x-\N  usua 

VN  \  ery, 


of  England,  as  a  rule,  use  the  ortho- 
graphic form,  most  prevalent  in  the 
United  States,  though  some  as  here, 
prefer  Amery  or  Amory.  From  the 
old  records,  it  is  seen  that  the  fh'st  set- 
tlers here,  as  was  then  common,  spelled 
the  name  in  a  variety  of  ways.  John 
Emery  of  Romsey,  in  old  age,  spelled 
his  name  Emerry,  but  his  will,  now  on 
file  among  the  Essex  county,  Massa- 
chusetts court  papers,  exhibits  his  sig- 
nature as  John  Emry.  The  name  is 
\  not  rare  in  France  ;  there  its 
usual  forms  are  Amory,  Em- 
and  D'Emery.  The 
£  £\"sj name  d°es  not  appear  in 
France  previous  to  the  Nor- 
man  invasion  of  Gaul.  It 
Avas  brought  with  the  fierce 
followers  of  Rollo,  gathered 
from  Norway,  Sweden,  Den- 
mark,  and  some  of  the  North 
German  provinces,  who  in 
the  early  part  of  the  tenth 
century  invaded  the  beauti- 
ful  land  of  Neustra,  and 
wrested  it  from  Charles  the 
Simple,  changing  the  name 

to  Normandy.  It  has  been  claimed 
that  the  practice  of  giving  "Sir"  names 
originated  in  Normandy,  and  was 
transported  to  Great  Britain  at  the 
time  of  the  conquest.  The  name 
Emery,  or  its  equivalent,  however, 
appears  in  Europe  as  early  as  the 
fourth  century,  where  it  is  found  in 
Switzerland,  Spain  and  Italy,  and  it  is 
well  known  in  German}-,  Emmerich, 
an  ancient  fortified  town  of  Germany, 
derived  its  name  from  Count  Embric 
or  Emeric. 

Anderson  (Sir  Names)  Edinburgh, 
18(>5,  sa3's,  "From  A  mala  rich  (exalted 
ruler) — Gothic — has  come  descended  in 
regular  transformation,  Amalric,  Alma- 


150 


REMINISCENCES 


ric,  Amaurj',  Aimery,  Ermenrich,  and 
Emerich,  the  English  names  Amoiy, 
Damery,  Darner  and  Emeiy." 

Though  of  historic  interest,  it  is  not 
general!}-  known  that  this  western  con- 
tinent, in  a  slightly  modified  form  bears 
the  name  under  notice.  Columbus  nev- 
er doubted  that  the  lands  he  had  dis- 
covered were  parts  of  the  East  Indies 
or  Asia ;  but,  after  extended  explora- 
tion, Americus  Vespucius  (or  Amerigo 
Vespucci,  as  his  name  appears  in  Ital- 
ian) became  assured  that  the}-  were  no 
other  than  a  second  or  western  conti- 
nent. His  written  accounts  of  the  cli- 
mate, people  and  productions,  obtained 
a  corroboration  of  this  idea  among  the 
inhabitants  of  the  old  world.  The  hon- 
or of  having  his  name  applied  to  the 
extent  of  the^mainland  of  South  Amer- 
ica, by  him  visited  and  described,  was 
not  sought  by  the  daring  Florentine. 
The  suggestion  of  his  name  came  from 
Matthias  Ringman,  the  poet,  and  a  few 
friends,  students  at  the  College  of  St. 
Die  in  Lorraine,  among  the  Vosges 
mountains,  in  a  corner  of  France.  In 
1507  they  put  forth  a  little  work  entitled 
"  Cosmographiae  Introduces,"  in  which 
the  suggestion  was  made  that  the  New 
World  should  be  named  America,  after 
a  man,  inasmuch  as  Europe  and  Asia 
had  been  named  after  women.  The 
suggestion  was  adopted,  and  America 
finally  became  the  name  of  the  whole 
western  continent.  Thus  was  Ameri- 
cus Yespucius  honored  in  the  use  of 
that  part  of  his  name  which  then  had 
been  known  for  more  than  ten  centu- 
ries. 

Dixon,  in  his  "  Sir  Names,"  says  : 

"  Emmery  (F) ,  Armanarciks  (Go  :) , 
'  Most  exalted  or  universal  ruler.'  The 
Gothic  name  became  changed  to  Arma- 
narich,  Ermanarich,  Ermenrich,  Em- 


menrich,  etc.  ;  and  from  it  were  prob- 
ably derived  the  English  Sir  names, 
Emerich,  Emery ke,  and  sometimes  Em- 
eiy.  The  forename  of  the  Italian  Ves- 
pucci was  also  a  corruption  of  the  name 
of  a  king  of  the  Goths  in  the  fourth 
century." 

Americus  is  not  properly  a  corrup- 
tion of  the  original  Gothic,  but  rather 
its  legitimate  Latinized  form.  Another 
author  (M.  A.  Lowe,  Patronymica 
Britannica)  writes  : 

' '  From  the  personal  name  Emeric  or 
Almericus,  equivalent  to  the  Italian 
Amerigo,  Latinized  Americus,  whence 
the  name  of  the  great  western  conti- 
nent. It  seems  to  have  undergone  the 
following  changes :  Emeric,  Emery, 
Amery,  Amary,  Ammar}*,  and,  in  the 
Domesday  Book,  Haimericus.  It  is 
asserted  that  the  family  of  D' Amery 
came  to  England  with  the  Conqueror, 
from  Tours." 

The  following  statement  appears  in 
"  English  Sir-Names  :  their  Source  and 
Signification,"  by  Charles  W.  Bailey, 
A.  M.,  London,  1875  : 

"  Emery,  though  now  .utterly  forgot- 
ten as  a  personal  name,  may  be  said  to 
live  only  in  our  Sir  names.  It  was 
once  no  unimportant  sobriquet.  Ame- 
ric,  Almeric,  Emeric,  and  Eimeric,  seem 
to  have  been  original  spellings  in  Eng- 
land, and  thus,  at  least,  it  is  more  like- 
ly to  remind  us  that  it  is  the  same  name 
to  which,  in  the  Italian  form  of  Ameri- 
go, we  owe  the  title  of  that  vast  ex- 
panse of  Western  territory  which  is  so 
indissolubly  connected  with  English  in- 
dustry and  English  interests." 

While  it  is  true  that  Emery  is  not 
now  used  as  a  personal  or  given  name 
in  England,  it  is  frequently  so  used  in 
the  Eastern  States  of  America.  All 
things  considei'ed,  the  name  in  question 
may  fairly  claim  to  rank  amongst  the 
most  remarkable  in  the  whole  range  of 
personal  nomenclature. 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


151 


The  arms  of  Amery,  or  Emery,  are : 


ARGENT,  THREE   BARS   NEBULKK,  GULES ;  IN   CHIEF,   AS 

MANY   TOKTEAUX.        CREST  —OUT   OF   A    MURAL 

CROWN,  A   DEMI-HORSE   ARGENT,  MANED 

OR,    COLLARED  GULES,   STUDDED 

OF   THE    FIRST. 
THE  LEGEND,    "  FIDELIS   ET   SAUVIS." 

Shatswell,  Shotswell,  Satchwell,  or 
Satchell.  John,  Ipswich,  1633 ;  died 
in  1647.  His  will  was  proved  March 
30.  It  names  wife  Joanna,  son  Rich- 
ard, brother  Theophilus,  brother  Cur- 
win,  and  sister  Mar}'  Webster,  widow 
of  John.  The  widow  Mary  (Shats- 
well) Webster,  with  her  children,  John, 
Thomas,  Stephen,  Israel,  Nathan,  Ma- 
ry, Hannah,  Elizabeth,  and  Abigail, 
removed  to  Newbury  about  1642.  On 
October  29,  1650,  she  married  John 
Emery.  She  died  August  28,  1694. 
John  Emery  was  very  fond  of  his  step- 
children, and  the}-  reciprocated  the  af- 
fection. Israel  and  Nathan,  the  one 
eighteen  and  the  other  fifteen  years  of 
age,  with  their  mother,  soon  after  her 
marriage,  petitioned  the  General  Court 
to  consent  to  their  choosing  their  fath- 
er-in-law, John  Emery,'  senior,  and 
brother,  John  Emery,  jr.,  as  their 
guardians.  All  of  the  Websters  were 

O 

remembered  in  Mr.  Emery's  will,  where 
they   are   styled  "his  dear  children." 


Hannah  Webster  married  Thomas  Em- 
erson ;  her  daughter  Hannah  Emerson, 
married  Thomas  Dustan,  and  became 
the  famous  Indian  slayer,  to  whose 
memory  a  monument  has  been  erected 
in  Haverhill. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Thomas  Colman,  born  in  1602, 
came  from  Marlboro,  Wiltshire,  Eng- 
land, to  Newbury,  in  the  party  who 
landed  with  Messrs.  Parker  and  No}Tes. 
His  first  wife  Susanna,  died  the  17th  of 
Nov.  1650.  The  same  year  he  re- 
moved to  Hampton,  and  married  Mary, 
widow  of  PMmund  Johnson,  July  llth, 
1651,  who  died  in  Hampton  Jan.  30th, 
1663.  His  third  wife  was  Margery 
.  After  1680  he  moved  to  Nan- 


tucket,  where  he  died  in  1685,  aged  83. 
His  children  were  Benjamin,  Joseph, 
Isaac,  Joanna,  John  and  Tobias.  To- 
bias, the  last  child  of  his  third  wife, 
was  the  ancestor  of  the  By  field  family. 
Deacon  Benjamin  Colman,  born  in 
1724,  married  first,  Ann  Brown,  from 
the  Brown's  Spring  Farm  on  the  main 
road.  This  lady  was  a  decendant  of 
John  Brown  of  Turkey  Hill,  whose 
dwelling  was  attacked  b}7  the  Indians 
in  1695.  Their  children  were  John, 
Dudley,  Thomas,  Samuel,  Benjamin, 
Moses,  Caleb,  William  and  Mary. 
Deacon  Column's  second  wife,  was 
widow  Sarah  Stickney,  whom  he  mar- 
ried Oct.  27th,  1778.  John,  born  1774, 
married  a  Miss  Danforth.  This  was 
the  migratoiy  couple  I  have  mentioned. 
Dudley,  born  Aug.  13th,  1745,  grad- 
uated at  Harvard  in  1765.  He  mar- 
ried Mary,  daughter  of  John  and 


152 


REMINISCENCES 


Mary  (Whipple)  Jones,  and  established 
a  tavern  in  Oldtown  on  the  old  Boston 
road.  The  house  is  still  standing  on 
High  street,  now  styled  the  old  Ilsley 
house.  He  was  town  clerk  for  Nc  w- 
bury,  and  at  the  commencement  of  the 
Revolutionary  war  entered  the  army, 
where  he  attained  the  rank  of  colonel. 
Mrs.  Column,  a  tall,  dignified  woman, 
possessing  a  superior  education,  and 
"much  elegance  of  manner,  during 
her  husband's  absence,  conducted  the 
public  house  with  great  success.  Col. 
Colman  removed  to  Boston,  where  for 
several  j'ears  he  was  landlord  of  the 
"Bunch  of  Grapes  Tavern."  His 
health  failing  he  purchased  a  farm  in 
Brookfield,  N.  H.,  where  he  died  Nov. 
16th,  1797. 

The  following  items  of  Col.  Col- 
man's  military  career  are  of  interest. 
The  first  is  taken  from  the  order  book 
of  Col.  Moses  Little,  the  October  suc- 
ceeding the  battle  of  Long  Island  : 

FORT  CONSTITUTION, 
Oct.  13th. 

It  is  Gen.  Greene's  orders  that  my 
Brigade  move  over  the  Ferry  immedi- 
ately. The  regiments  to  leave  a  care- 
ful officer  &  12  men  each  to  bring  for- 
ward their  baggage  to  King's  Bridge, 
who  is  to  take  care  that  none  of  it  be 
left  behind  or  lost.  When  the  Reg'ts 
are  over  the  ferry,  they  will  march  to 
Mt.  Washington  &  remain  there  till 
further  orders.  You  will  hurry  the 
march  as  fast  as  possible,  as  they  must 
cross  the  ferry  this  night. 

Jxo.  NIXON,  B.  C. 

To  Dudley  Colman,  A.  B.  M. 

EAST  CHESTER,  Oct.  16th. 
The  several  reg'ts  in  this  Brigade 
are  to  draw  4  days  provision  &  have  it 
cooked  immediately.  The  Q.  M.  will 
apply  to  the  assistant  Q.  M.  Gen'l  for 
carriages  to  transport  their  provisions. 
Col.  Varnum's  Keg't  to  relieve  Col. 
Nixon's  at  Frogg's  Point  this  P.  M. 


Oct.  16th. 

Sir : — You  are  to  order  Col.  Var- 
num's reg't  to  inarch  immediately  to 
Frogg's  Neck  to  relieve  Col.  Ritzema's 
or  Col.  Malcom's  reg't  (which  of  the 
two  you  fin:!  there  not  relieved) .  You 
will  get  a  pilot  from  Col.  Nixon's  reg't 
to  direct  them  thither. 

Jxo.  Nixox,  B.  C. 
To  Dudley  Colman,  Brigade  Major. 

MILES  SOUARE,  ~) 
EAST  CHESTER. 

Oct.  18th.       3 

Sir  : — You  will  have  a  working  party 
of  300  men  &  officers  ready  to  go  to 
work  as  soon  as  the  tools  arrive,  which 
I  have  sent  for,  &  }'ou  will  see  that  suit- 
able guards  are  mounted  by  each  regi- 
ment. 

Jxo.  NIXON,  B.  C. 
To  D.  Colman,  B.  Major. 

Subjoined  is  a  copy  of  a  letter  from 
Col.  Dudley  Colman  to  Col.  Moses 
Little,  of  Turkey  Hill : 

CAMP  ALBANY. 
Oct.  28th,  1777. 
Dear  Sir : — I  have  the  pleasure, 
though  late,  to  congratulate  3-011  on  the 
surrender  of  Gen.  Burgoyne  and  his 
army.  Some  of  them  doubtless  you 
will  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  before 
this  reaches  you.  It  ma.y  I  think  be 
reckoned  among  the  extraordinary 
events  history  furnishes  us  with  to 
have  5000  and  upwards  of  veteran, 
disciplined  troops,  besides  followers  of 
the  army  surrounded  &  their  resources 
&  retreat  so  cut  off  in  the  field,  as  to 
oblige  them  to  surrender  prisoners  of 
war,  without  daring  to  come  to  further 
action,  is  au  event  I  do  not  recollect 
to  have  met  with  in  history,  much  less 
did  I  ever  expect  to  see  it  in  this  war. 
I  confess  I  could  hardly  believe  it  to  be 
a  reality  when  I  saw  it,  the  prospect 
was  truly  extremely  pleasing  to  see 
our  troops  paraded  in  the  best  order, 
and  to  see  them  march  as  prisoners  by 
after  they  had  laid  down  their  arms, 
who  but  a  few  days  before  had  preten- 
ded to  despise  (although  at  the  same 
time  I  believe  they  did  not  think  so 
lightly  of  us  as  the}"  pretended)  afford- 


OF   A 


153 


ed  a  most  striking  &  agreeable  pros- 
pect. I  can  but  mention  the  good 
order  observed  by  our  troops  on  see- 
ing them  march  by,  no  laughing  or 
marks  of  exultation  were  to  be  seen 
among  them,  nothing  more  than  a 
manly  joy  appeared  on  the  countenan- 
ces of  our  troops,  which  showed  that 
the}*  had  fortitude  of  mind  to  bear 
prosperity  without  being  too  much 
elated,  as  well  as  to  encounter  the 
greatest  hardships  &  dangers.  It  has 
likewise  been  observed  to  me  by  sev- 
eral of  the  British  officers,  that  the}" 
did  not  expect  to  be  received  in  so 
polite  a  manner,  &  that  they  never  saw 
troops  behave  with  more  decency,  or  a 
better  spirit  on  such  an  occasion. 

We  have  I  think  for  the  present  re- 
stored peace  in  the  northern  quarter  & 
although  for  a  little  time  past  viewed 
the  evacuation  of  Ticonderoga  as  a 
misfortune,  we  may  now  see  it  has 
proved  a  means  of  destroying  this  ene- 
my. 

Gen.  Clinton  has  of  late  made  an 
attempt  to  come  up  the  river  &  has  de- 
stroyed several  places  in  order  to  make 
a  diversion  in  favor  of  Gen.  Burgoyne, 
but  he  was  too  late.  We  expect  orders 
to  strike  our  tents  every  day,  as  we 
have  been  under  marching  orders  these 
three  days,  &  part  of  the  army  are 
gone.  I  know  not  where  we  are  to 
march  to,  but  suppose  it  to  be  down 
the  river,  when  if  we  can  get  between 
the  enemy  &  their  ships,  we  shall  en- 
deavor to  convince  them  that  they  are 
not  to  proceed  in  the  way  they  have 
done,  of  destroying  the  property  of 
our  fellow-countrymen.  Please  to  give 
my  best  regards  to  Mr.  Gray  and  fam- 
ily, &  all  friends,  &  I  should  be  hap- 
py to  have  a  line  from  you. 
I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient, 
humble  servant, 
DUDLEY  COLMAN. 

To  Col.  Moses  Little,  member  of  the 
House  of  Representatives. 

The  following  letter,  dated  Newbury, 
July  19th,  1792,  was  written  by  Dea. 
Benjamin  Colman,  soon  after  the  death 


of  his  second  wife,  to  his  son,  Col. 
Dudley  Colman,  in  Boston.  The  latter 
part  refers  to  Col.  Colman' s  having  em- 
braced more  liberal  religious  views 
than  those  in  which  he  had  been  edu- 
cated. I  omit  an  account  of  the  sick- 
ness of  Mrs.  Colman ;  after  announc- 
ing her  departure,  Dea.  Colman  writes  : 

"In  the  time  of  her  sickness,  as  well 
as  before,  I  used  to  put  questions  to 
her  that  I  might  know  the  state  of  her 
mind.  She  used  always  to  entertain 
a  hope  that  God  had  given  her  a  gra- 
cious turn  of  mind,  but  she  was  press- 
ing after  that  full  assurance  of  an  in- 
terest in  the  favor  of  God,  whereby  she 
might  be  actually  ready  for  the  sum- 
mons of  death  &  meet  it  with  an 
holy  confidence.  I  can't  say  that  she 
did  attain  to  that  full  assurance  which 
she  wished  &  longed  for,  but  about 
three  days  before  she  died,  which  was 
the  last  time  I  could  understand  what 
she  said,  I  ask'd  her  about  the  state 
of  her  mind,  how  it  was  as  to  her  hopes 
&  fears,  and  she  answered  me  as  near 
as  I  can  repeat  in  the  following  words, 
viz :  '  Mr.  Colman,  I  am  conscious  to 
myself  of  many  failings,  infirmities  and 
shortcomings,  I  have  no  righteousness 
of  my  own  to  plead  for  my  justification 
before  God,  my  only  hppe  of  salvation 
is  in  the  atoning  blood,  and  righteous- 
ness of  the  great  Redeemer,  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.'  Some  other  things  she 
spake  at  the  same  time  to  the  same 
purpose,  after  that  conversation  her 
speech  failed,  so  that  I  could  under- 
stand but  little  she  said,  though  she 
continued  near  three  days,  I  hope  and 
trust  she  was  sincere  and  sound  in  the 
faith,  so  that  she  is  received  to  the 
mercy  of  eternal  life  thro'  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  And  now  in  my  old  age, 
God  has  a  second  time  deprived  me  of 
a  companion,  my  prayer  is  that  God 
will  grant  me  his  quickening  grace  that 
I  may  double  my  diligence  in  prepar- 
ing to  follow  my  deceased  wives  to  that 
world  of  spirits  to  which  we  are  all 
hastening.  And  now  my  dear  child, 
what  shall  I  say  to  you.  You  and  I 
20 


154 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


dailey  see  that  death  is  the  end  of  all 
men  and  women.  :ind  the  wise  man  tells 
us  the  living  will  lay  it  to  heart,  i  e,  we 
should  do  so,  &  it'  we  are  rational  we 
shall  do  so.  if  we  act  wisely  for  our- 
selves we  shall  consider  ourselves  as  we 
are,  probationers  for  that  iinal  state  of 
retribution  &  judgment  after  which 
there  will  be  no  change — consider  my 
dear  child,  you  and  I  are  near  this 
change  of  states,  by  which  unconceiva- 
ble happiness  or  unconceivable  misery 
will  take  place  on  us.  I  beseech  you 
to  allow  yourself  a  little  time,  if  it  be 
but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  in  a  day,  to 
retire  from  compairy  to  your  closet  or 
chamber  to  look  into  the  state  of  your 
immortal  soul,  and  think  with  yourself 
if  3'ou  had  a  large  estate  in  prospect, 
even  in  this  world,  if  you  doubted  as  to 
your  title  to  the  same,  if  you  feared 
you  should  lose  all  &  be  a  beggar  in 
misery  &  distress,  how  solicitous  would 
you  be  to  secure  a  good  title  to  that  es- 
tate which  you  could  keep  &  enjo}'  but 
for  a  short,  limited  time, — but  alas, 
what  a  faint  similitude  is  this  to  set 
forth  the  favor  of  God,  &  an  interest 
in  Christ,  and  an  interest  in  that  king- 
dom, where  you  may  enjoy  all  that 
heart  can  wish  or  tho't  conceive,  con- 
sider if  you  lose  your  soul,  'twill  be  an 
infinite  loss,  an  irreparable  loss,  there- 
fore your  all  is  at  stake.  I  beseech 
you  la}-  to  heart  Christ's  own  words  viz  : 
•what  will  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world  &  lose  his  soul,'  these  are 
the  words  of  him  that  is  Wisdom  itself 
&  truth  itself,  they  are  the  words  of 
him  that  laid  down  his  precious  life  a 
ransome  for  mankind  —  sinners;  that 
will  be  the  final  .Judge  of  all  the  world, 
both  Angels  &  men,  for  God  the  father 
has  constituted  the  Son,  as  God  man. 
Mediator  to  that  office,  and  has  given 
assurance  of  it  to  ah1  men  in  that  he 
has  raised  him  from  the  dead,  declared 
him  to  be  the  son  of  God,  with  power 
by  his  resurrection.  Set  him  at  his 
own  right  hand,  exalted  him  for  this 
very  purpose,  to  give  repentance  &  re- 
mission of  sins.  This  Jesus  will  be 
our  Judge  at  the  last  day,  inspiration 
tells  us  he  will  come  in  flaming  fire  to 


take  vengeance  on  them  that  know  not 
God.  and  that  obey  not  the  gospel  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  shall  be 
punished  with  everlasting  destruction 
from  the  presence  of  the  Lord  &  from 
the  glory  of  his  power.  Dreadful 
words,  and  more  dreadful  day,  when 
this  exalted  God  man  shall  assume  his 
throne,  appear  in  his  robes  of  majesty, 
to  take  vengeance  on  his  enemies,  on 
all  contemners,  &  sliters  of  gospel  sal- 
vation &  mercy,  which  he  has  tendered 
to^ost,  perishing  sinners,  in  &  through 
that  precious  blood  of  his,  which  he 
shed  for  the  remission  of  our  sins,  how 
can  we  endure  to  hear  that  dreadful 
sentence,  depart  from  me  ye  cursed, 
you  have  slited  offered  mercy,  abused 
my  patience,  resisted  &  grieved  my 
spirit,  and  now  the  door  is  shut.  This 
my  dear  child,  will  ineviably  be  the 
doleful  doom  of  all  that  set  light  by  Je- 
sus Christ  &  neglect  the  great  salva- 
tion, purchased  by  the  blood  of  him 
that  was  God  as  well  as  man.  But  am 
I  saying  all  this  to  an  Infidel — a  Soci- 
nian  who  denies  the  Divinity  of  Jesus 
Christ, — or  to  a  Universalist.  who  hopes 
&  expects  that  all  men  will  be  saved  at 
last,  tho'  they  have  no  gracious  princi- 
ple wrought  in  them  in  this  life  of  pro- 
bation &  trial,  or  am  I  writing  to  a  fa- 
talist that  presumes  on  the  decrees  of 
God,  and  argues  thus  with  himself: 
if  I  am  elected  J  shall  be  saved  let  me 
do  as  I  will,  and  live  as  I  list ;  and  if 
I  am  not  elected,  'tis  impossible  for  me 
to  be  saved,  let  me  do  all  that  I  can  in 
a  way  of  means,  and  take  ever  so  much 
pains  for  the  salvation  of  nry  soul,  be- 
cause God's  eternal  decrees  stand  against 
me.  These  pernicious  tenets,  and  a 
thousand  more  artfices  the  malicious 
Adversary  of  our  precious  souls  sug- 
gests to  us  to  wheedle  us  along  by  his 
artful  devices,  till  the  summons  of  death 
arrests  us  and  then  he  will  be  sure  of 
us.  O.  my  dear  child,  resist  and  shun 
his  devices,  flee  to  Christ  by  faith  now 
while  the  door  of  mercy  &  hope  are  yet 
open,  make  God  in  Christ  your  refuge, 
&  believe  God's  word,  whatever  his  se- 
cret decrees  are  (which  you  can  not 
know  at  your  pleasure),  his  word  & 


OP   A 


155 


promises  are  plain,  viz,  If  you  believe 
ou  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  you  shall  be 
saved,  and  as  a  good  means  to  convince 
you  -of  the  perniciousness  and  falsity 
of  Socinian  he  re  33-,  I  beseech  you  for 
3-0111-  soul's  sake,  upon  reading  this  let- 
ter, to  set  apart  some  time  in  secret, 
open  3'our  bible,  and  read  with  prayer- 
ful attention,  the  fore  part  of  the  first 
chapter  of  St  John's  gospel,  and  beg 
God  that  you  may  know  the  truth  of 
those  words,  viz,  In  the  beginning  was 
the  word,  and  the  word  was  with  God, 
and  the  word  was  God*,  &c.,  &c.  I 
beseech  3-011  not  to  think  3-0111'  conver- 
sion impossible,  or  that  you  cannot  for- 
sake 3'our  old  companions  &  steer 
another  course,  these  are  Satan's  devi- 
ces to  hold  3'ou  where  3'ou  are,  till  he 
has  made  sure  of  3-011 ;  1  pray  the  Lord 
to  pluck  3-011  out  of  his  snare,  &  con- 
found his  devices,  and  set  3-011  at  liber- 
ty, for  although  his  malice  is  infinite, 
his  power  is  limited,  3-011  are  in  God's 
hands  &  he  can  deliver  &  save  3-011. 
But  if  3'ou  are  resolved  to  keep  on  & 
live  in  a  careless  neglect  of  the  salva- 
tion of  your  immortal  soul,  if  3~ou  still 
harden  3-0111'  heart  and  refuse  to  come 
to  Christ  for  life,  I  can  01113-  tell  you 
niy  soul  shall  weep  in  secret  places  for 
you  still,  and  that  God  will  glorify  his 
justice  in  3-0111'  eternal  destruction.  But 
how  can  1  bear  the  tho't,  that  you  my 
dear  child  should  be  the  object  of  God's 
everlasting  displeasure  &  wrath?  Since 
it  is  the  last  time  I  expect  to  write  to 
you,  please  to  bear  with  me  while  I  ex- 
postulate the  case  with  3-011.  wh\'  will  3-011 
die  when  life  is  to  be  had  for  the, taking? 
God  is  yet  upon  a  throne  of  glorious 
grace,  holding  out  the  sceptre  of  his 
merc3"  to  3-011,  his  voice  is  to  3-011, 0  man, 
I  call,  &c.,  as  I  live  saith  the  Lord.  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him 
that  dieth,  but  had  rather  he  would  turn 
and  live,  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will 
in  no  wise  cast  out.  But  if  3*011  refuse 
to  hearken  to  nay  expostulations,  pray 
my  child  hearken  to  Christ's  expostula- 
tions. Oh  that  they  had  known  in  this 
their  day,  the  things  that  belong  to 
their  peace,  this  God  speaks  to  you  my 
child,  as  I  told  3-011  in  my  other  letter, 


3-011  are  welcome  to  Christ  if  Christ  be 
welcome  to  3-011,  nothing  does  or  can 
hinder  3-0111'  salvation  if  you  be  willing 
to  come  to  Christ  for  life,  he  sa3's,  I 
will  take  away  the  heart  of  stone,  and 
give  3'ou  a  heart  of  flesh,  I  will  blot 
out  all  your  transgressions,  tho'  3-0111' 
sins  are  as  scarlet  or  as  crimson,  tho' 
3'our  sins  were  as  many  as  the  sauda, 
or  as  might3'  as  the  mountains,  tho' 
your  sins  were  as  numerous  as  the  stars 
in  the  sl<y,  the  blood  of  Christ  is  suffi- 
cient to  expiate  all  their  guilt,  and  his 
spirit  is  able  to  purge  awa3r  all  the  filth 
of  them,  and  to  sprinkle  3-0111'  guihYy  con- 
science with  the  blood  which  cleanses 
from  all  sin  &  he  still  sa3*s,  whosoever 
will,  let  him  come  &  take  the  water  of 
life  freeby,  &  him  that  cometh  to  me,  I 
will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  God  grant 
for  his  name's  sake  that  3*ou  ma3'  be 
made  walling  to  accept  his  offered  mer- 
cy, and  be  made  a  triumph  of  his  sov- 
ereign grace,  thro'  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  Amen.  So  pi^-s  3-0111-  loving 
parent, 

BENJAMIN  COLMAX." 

Dea.  Colman  died  in  1797. 

Rev.  Henr3'  Colman,  son  of  Col. 
Dudle3-,  a  distinguished  Unitarian  cler- 
g3'inan,  was  first  settled  at  Hingham, 
afterwards  in  Salem  ;  in  his  latter  3'ears 
he  became  noted  as  an  agriculturist  and 
an  author. 

Thomas,  born  in  1751,  the  third  sou 
of  Deacon  Benjamin  Colman,  graduat- 
ed at  Harvard  in  the  class  of  1770,  and 
was  drowned  at  Newbuiy  bar  October 
28,  1784. 

Benjamin,  born  in  1752,  married  Ma- 
ry Chute.  He  owned  a  farm  nearly- 
opposite  the  Congregational  meeting- 
house in  By  field,  and  was  also  engaged 
in  the  shoe  business.  After  his  father's 
decease  he  succeeded  him  as  deacon  in 
the  church. 

Moses,  born  in  1755,  inherited  the 
original  farm  of  the  first  settler,  Thom- 
as Colniau,  which,  from  his  father,  Col. 


156 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


Jeremiah  Col  man,  has  descended  to 
Moses  Colman,  esq.,  of  Boston.  Mr. 
Colman  also  carried  on  an  extensive 
butchering  business.  His  first  wife 
was  Dorothy  Pearson,  by  whom  he  had 
one  son,  Jeremiah.  His  second  wife 
was  Bett}-  (Little)  Emery,  who  also 
had  one  son,  Daniel  Colman. 

Samuel,  born  in  1762,  a  graduate  of 
Harvard,  married  Susanna,  grand- 
daughter of  Joseph  Atkins,  esq.  He 
studied  medicine,  and  entered  into  prac- 
tice in  Augusta,  Me.  He  afterwards 
returned  to  Newburyport,  engaged  in 
teaching,  where  he  died  in  181U,  and 
was  interred  in  St.  Paul's  churchyard. 

Caleb,  born  in  1762,  married  a  MHS 
Burbauk,  and  purchased  a  farm  in  Han- 
over, N.  H. 

William,  born  in  1768,  for  a  time  re- 
sided on  the  homestead,  then  removed 
to  Boscawen,  N.  H.,  where  he  owned 
a  farm  and  mill.  His  first  wife  was 
Susan  Thurston.  She  was  the  mother 
of  Daniel  Thurston  and  Hannah  (twins) 
Dorothy,  Judith,  Sumner,  Lucy,  Mary, 
and  Bett}-  who  died  in  childhood.  His 
second  wife  was  the  widow  Temple  ; 
she  had  three  sons.  Luiher,  William 
and  David  Emery.  After  her  death 
Mr.  Colman  married  the  widow  Brown, 
daughter  of  Mr.  Moses  Pillsbury  of 
Crane-neck  hill. 

Maiy,  the  only  daughter,  born  in 
1757,  married  Mr.  Joseph  Searle  of 
Byfield. 

Charles  Harris,  oldest  son  of  Daniel 
Thurston  and  Nancy  (Harris)  Colman, 
born  February  8,  1819  ;  graduated  at 
Bowdoln  in  1843;  October  ID,  1844, 
married  Deborah  Dinsmore  of  Auburn. 
N.  H.  For  many  years  Mr.  Colman 
has  resided  at  the  West. 

Samuel,  son  of  Samuel  and  Tamelia 
(Chandler)  Colman,  and  grandson  of 


Dr.  Samuel  Colman,  born  in  1832  ; 
studied  art ;  went  abroad  in  1860, 
studying  in  Paris  and  Spain  ;  was  made 
a  member  of  the  National  Academy 
in  1864 ;  president  of  the  American 
Water  Color  Society  in  1866  :  resigned 
in  1872  and  went  abroad  spending 
some  j'ears  in  the  principal  cities  of 
Europe.  He  was  married  in  1862. 
The  Colman  arms  are  : 


m 


PARTI  PER  FESS,  OR,  SABLE;  A  CROSS  PATEE  BETWEEN 

TOUR  MULLETS  COUNTERCH ANGED.    CRE^T, 

A  GREYHOUND'S    HEAD. 

The  Hale  family  is  of  considerable 
antiquity,  and  of  high  respectability  in 
England.  Thomas  Hale,  of  Codieote. 
in  Hertfordshire,  married  Anne,  daugh- 
ter of  Edmund  Mitchell,  and  had  three 
sons,  Richard, William  and  John.  Rich- 
ard, the  eldest  son,  purchased  the  es- 
tate of  King's  Walden  in  Hertford- 
shire, and  died  in  1620.  His  sou  Wil- 
liam succeeded  him,  and  died  in  Aug- 
ust. 1634.  aged  sixty-six.  He  left  nine 
children  :  Richard,  born  in  1596  ;  Wil- 
liam. 1597  ;  Rowland,  his  heir  ;  George, 
born  July  30,  1601;  Alicia,  in  1603; 
Wim-frida.  in  1604  ;  Thomas,  in  1606  ; 
Anne,  in  16Q£;  and  Dionesia,  March 
17,  1011. 

Thomas  Hale,  with  his  wife  Tamosiu, 
came  to  Newbuiy  in  1635,  and  located 


OF   A  XONAGEXARIAN. 


157 


on  the  south  side  of  the  river  Parker. 
He  died  December  21,  1682,  aged  78. 
She  died  January  30,  1683.  Children  : 
Thomas,  born  1633  ;  John,  born  1636  ; 
and  Samuel. 

Thomas  Hale,  jr.,  married  Mary 
Hutchinson  of  Danv.ers,  May  26,  1657. 
He  died  October,  1688.  Children: 
Thomas,  born  February,  1658;  Mary, 
born  July  15,  1660;  Abigail,  born 
April  8,  1662;  Hannah,  born  Novem- 
ber 29,  1663;  Lyclia,  born  April  17, 
1666;  Elizabeth,  born  October  16, 
1668  ;  Joseph,  born  February  20,  1671  ; 
Samuel,  born  June  6,  1674. 

Capt.  Thomas  Hale  married  Sarah, 
daughter  of  Ezekiel  and  Edna  (IIol- 
stead)  Northern!  of  Rowley,  May  16, 
1682.  Children:  Thomas,  born  March 
9,  1683;  Edna,  born  November  21, 
1684;  Mary,  born  April  28,  1687; 
Kzekiel,  born  May  13,  1689  ;  Nathan, 
born  June  2,  1691  ;  Sarah,  born  March 
9,  1693;  Ebenezer,  born  April  21, 
1695  ;  Daniel,  born  February  22,  1697  ; 
Hannah,  born  June  7,  1699  ;  Joshua, 
born  March  17,  1701. 

Ezekiel  Hale  purchased  a  farm  in  the 
west  precinct,  and  married  Ruth  Moody 
of  Pipestave  hill.  She  died,  leaving 
two  daughters,  Ruth,  and  Elizabeth 
who  died  in  childhood.  Mr.  Hale  next 
married  Mary  Sargent  of  Amesbury. 
She  died,  leaving  a  daughter  Mary. 
His  third  wife  was  Sarah,  daughter  of 
Parson  Balch  of  Bradford.  She  died, 
leaving  a  daughter  Sarah.  The  fourth 
wife  was  Mary  (Poor)  Spoflbrd.  She 
had  one  son,  Ezekiel,  and  three  daugh- 
ters ;  one  of  these  married  Mr.  But- 
trick,  the  second  Mr.  Hildreth,  and  the 
third  Squire  Farnum  of  Dracut.  Ruth, 
the  oldest  daughter,  married  John,  sec- 
ond son  of  Capt.  Edmund  Little,  of 
Crane-neck  hill.  Mary,  the  second 


daughter,  married  Enoch,  the  third  son 
of  Capt.  Edmund  Little.  Sarah,  the 
third  daughter,  married  Mr.  Moses 
Pillsbury,  of  Crane-neck  hill.  From 
the  son,  P^zekiel,  descended  Joshua 
Hale,  born  in  Dracut,  August  27,  1777, 
who  died  in  New  Orleans,  of  }'ellow 
fever,  August  29,  1817.  He  went  to 
Worcester,  where  he  was  a  clothier  and 
builder  of  machine^,  and  was  the  first 
who  built  a  wool-carding  machine  in 
New  England.  Rev.  Christopher  Sar- 
gent Hale,  Brown  University  1820,  and 
Hon.  Ezekiel  James  Madison  Hale, 
Dartmouth  1835,  now  of  Haverliill, 
Mass. 

Daniel,  fifth  son  of  Capt.  Thomas 
Hale,  married  Judith  Emery.  He  com- 
manded a  company  in  Col.  Samuel 
Waldo's  Massachusetts  regiment  in  the 
expedition  against  Louisburg  in  1745, 
and  was  killed  at  the  head  of  his  com- 
pany, in  the  trenches  before  that  forti- 
fication, May  21,  1745.  His  descend- 
ants are  numerous  in  Essex  county, 
Mass.,  and  elsewhere.  Among  them 
are  the  late  Francis  Pickard  Hale,  Bow- 
doin  1845,  of  Charlestown,  Mass.,  and 
Daniel  Harris  Hale,  esq.,  of  Rowley, 
president  of  the  Rowley  Historical 
Society. 

Rev.  Moses  Hale,  born  July  10, 
1678;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1699; 
ordained  in  Newbury,  Byfield,  October, 
1706  ;  and  died  in  January,  1743,  aged 
66 


Rev.  Moses  Hale,  born  in  Newbury 
in  1703  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1722  ; 
was  ordained  in  Chester,  N.  H.,  Octo- 
ber 20,  1731,  and  dismissed  June  4, 
1735. 

Rev.  Moses  Hale,  born  January  18, 
1715  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1734  ; 
settled  in  Newbury,  west  parish,  Feb- 


158 


REMINISCENCES 


ruary  20,  1752  ;  and  died  January  15, 
1779,  aged  64. 

Rev.  Moses  Hale,  son  of  the  preced- 
ing, born  in  Rowley,  February  19,  1740  ; 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1771  ;  was  or- 
dained in  Boxford,  and  died  May  26, 
1798. 

Nathan  Hale,  born  in  Newbury, 
March  1,  1720;  graduated  at  Harvard 
in  1739,  and  died  in  Newbury. 

Samuel  Hale,  born  in  Newbury.  Aug- 
ust 24,  1718  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in 
1740.  In  1745  he  commanded  a  com- 
pany of  provincials  at  Louisburg,  and 
for  more  than  thirt}'  years  was  a  dis- 
tinguished teacher  of  }-outh  in  Ports- 
mouth, N.  H.  He  died  July  10,  1807, 
aged  89. 

Thomas  Hale  of  Newbury,  Ma}-  25, 
1797,  married  Alice,  the  eldest  daugh- 
ter of  Col.  Josiah  Little.  Children  : 

Rev. Benjamin,  D.D.,  born  November 
23,  1797,  graduated  at  Bowdoin  Col- 
lege in  1818,  studied  theology  at  An- 
dover,  was  professor  of  chemistry  and 
mineralogy  at  Dartmouth  College,  pres- 
ident of  Hobart  College,  Geneva,  N.Y.. 
for  over  tvventj-  years,  and  the  author 
of  various  educational  works.  He 
married,  April  9,  1829,  Mary  Caroline 
King.  Dr.  Hale  died  July  15, 1863. 

Moses  Little,  born  April  7,  1799. 
An  eminent  business  man  of  Boston, 
deacon  of  the  Bowdoin  street  church, 
and  the  occupant  of  man}'  responsible 
positions.  He  married  Maiy  Lane, 
j-oungest  daughter  of  the  Rev.  James 
Miltimore,  first  pastor  of  the  Belleville 
church.  He  died  June  22,  1874. 

Thomas,  born  October  13,  1800 ; 
married  Caroline  Charlotte  Jordan  Oct- 
ober 7, 1836.  He  died  May  28, 1854. 

Sarah,  born  March  29,  1802 ;  died 
April  9,  1834. 

Josiah  Little,  born  December  9, 1803  ; 


entered  the  office  of  the  Merchants  In- 
surance Company,  of  Boston,  at  the 
age  of  eighteen,  where  his  fidelity  and 
courteous  manners  soon  won  him  pro- 
motion. In  1825  he  became  secretary 
of  the  AYashington  Marine  Insurance 
Company,  and  in  1828,  on  the  opening 
of  a  branch  office,  he  went  to  New 
York  as  its  manager.  After  a  year  of 
marked  success  in  this  position,  he 
joined  with  the  late  AAralter  R.  Jones  in 
establishing  the  Atlantic  Insurance 
Company  of  New  York.  To  do  this 
he  had  to  rai.se  *  150, 000  of  the  capital 
stock,  and  his  Boston  friends  proved 
their  confidence  in  his  character  and 
abilit}T  l\y  subscriptions  to  twice  that 
amount.  In  this  position  he  remained 
for  twenty-five  years,  in  which  time  the 
Atlantic  became  the  leading  marine  in- 
surance company  in  the  country.  He 
was  compelled,  by  continued  ill  health, 
to  resign  his  office  in  1854.  In  the 
resolutions  of  respect  and  regret  then 
adopted,  the  trustees  refer  to  the  com- 
pany as  established  essentially  through 
his  active  instrumentality,  and  as  hav- 
ing under  his  administration  enjo^ved  a 
course  of  uninterrupted  success.  Mr. 
Halejheld  with  an  intelligent  and  firm 
conviction  the  great  doctrines  of  grace, 
but  without  bigotiy  or  sectarianism. 
The  Bible  was  his  constant  companion, 
and  doing  good  his  constant  delight. 
He  died  February  26,  1875. 

Edward,  born  November  8,  1805; 
married  widow  Elizabeth  L.  Brown  Jan- 
uary 30,  1837. 

Mary,  born  Jury  5,  1807  ;  died  March 
13,  1859. 

Dr.  Ebenezer,  born  April  28,  1809 ; 
graduated  at  Dartmouth  in  1829  ;  mar- 
ried Sarah  Bannister  June  13,  1844. 
He  died  August  2,  1847. 

Alice  Little,   born  April  15,   1811  ; 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


159 


married,  April  23,  1832,  Rev.  John 
Charles  March,  second  pastor  of  the 
Belleville  church,  who  died  September 
26,  1846. 

Capt.  Joshua,  born  December  14, 
1812  ;  married  S.ophia  Cutler  Tenney 
January  4,  1844. 

Alice,  wife  of  Thomas  Hale,  died 
July  27,  1819.  On  September  17,  1822, 
Mr.  Hale  married  Mary,  fifth  daughter 
of  Col.  Josiah  Little.  Their  only  child 
was  James  White,  born  September  8, 
1827,  and  died  October  11,  1832. 

Mr.  Thomas  Hale  died  August  14, 
1836.  Mary,  widow  of  Thomas  Hale, 
died  January  26,  1871. 

Benjamin,  oldest  son  of  Dr.  Benja- 
min Hale,  born  October  31,  1S27 ; 
graduated  at  Hobart  College  in  1848  ; 
October  29.  1855,  he  married  Lucy 
Balch  Hale,  only  daughter  of  Col. 
Ebenezer  Hale. 

Thomas,  the  second  son,  born  July 
11,  1834  ;  graduated  at  Hobart  College 
in  1853  ;  vice-president  of  the  Pacific 
Mutual  Insurance  Company,  New  York  ; 
February  24,  1870,  married  Lucy  F. 
Searcy. 

Cyrus  King,  third  son,  born  March 
17,  1838  ;  graduated  at  Hobart  College 
in  1858;  May  9,  1866,  married  Alice 
Little,  only  child  of  Capt.  Joshua  Hale  ; 
died  June  6,  1874. 

Dr.  Josiah,  fourth  son,  born  April  1, 
1841  ;  graduated  at  Hobart  College  in 
I860 ;  studied  medicine  at  Harvard 
Medical  School  and  in  Europe  ;  April 
24,  1873,  he  married  Annie  Skinner 
Pierce. 

Eben  Thomas  Hale,  only  son  of  Col. 
Ebenezer  and  Lucy  (Balch)  Hale,  born 
May  9,  1842  ;  graduated  at  Yale  Col- 
lege in  1862.  That  year  he  enlisted  in 
Forty-fifth  Massachusetts  regiment  for 
nine  months'  service,  under  General 


Foster.  Stationed  at  Newbern,  N.  C., 
the  regiment  did  provost  duty  ;  was  in 
the  engagement  at  Whitehall  and 
Kingston,  returning  home  in  June, 
1863.  Afterward  he  studied  law  at 
the  Harvard  Law  School.  His  health 
becoming  impaired,  he  went  to  South 
America  in  1866,  visiting  Rio  Janeiro 
and  other  places  of  interest.  After 
his  return  he  became  a  partner  in  the 
firm  of  Lowell  &  Brett,  stationers, 
Boston,  continuing  in  the  business  until 
his  death,  which  took  place  September 
7,  1868. 

Moses  Hoyt  Hale,  born  May  24, 
1829  ;  married  C.  Adeline  Preston, 
of  Danvers,  January  29,  1852  ;  repre- 
sented Salem  in  Massachusetts  legisla- 
ture in  1868  and  1869.  Since  Febru- 
ary 14,  1870,  a  special  agent  of  the 
United  States  treasury  department. 
He  died  at  his  home  in  Danvers,  in 
1879. 

Albert  Hale,  born  September  13,, 
1839  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1861  ; 
principal  of  the  high  school  in  Fair- 
haven,  Mass.,  from  January,  1862,  to 
April,  1864 ;  principal  of  female  high 
school  at  Newburyport,  Mass.,  from 
May,  1864,  to  November,  1865;  pri- 
vate tutor  in  Cambridge  and  Boston  in 
1865  and  1866  ;  teacher  in  the  English 
high  school,  Boston,  from  1866 ;  since 
1875  a  master  in  said  school.  August 
18,  1869,  he  married  Katherine,  daugh- 
ter of  Albert  and  Katherine  (Daven- 
port) Wood,  of  Newburyport. 

Frank  A.  Hale,  born  January  8, 
1854 ;  received  the  degree  of  M.  D. 
March  1,  1876,  at  the  Boston  Univer- 
sity School  of  Medicine. 


160 


REMIXISCEXCES 


The   arms   of  the   Hales   of  King's 
Walclen,  are : 


AZUBE,     A     CHEVRON     EMBATTLED,     COUNTER-EMBAT- 
TLED  OK.        CREST — A   SNAKE    PROPER.    ENTWINE]) 
AROUND    FIVE     ARROWS     OR,     HEADED     SABLE, 
FEATHERED  ARGENT.    ONE  IN  PALE,  FOUR 
SALTIRE. 

William  Moody  came  from  Ipswich, 
England,  to  Ipswich,  America,  in  1634, 
and  to  Newbury  in  1635.  His  wife 
was  Sarah.  Children  :  Joshua,  Caleb, 
William  and  Samuel. 

Caleb  Mood}*  married  Sara  Pierce, 
who  died  August  25,  1665.  Children  : 
Daniel  and  Sara.  His  second  wife  was 
Judith  Bradbury.  Children :  Caleb, 
Thomas,  Judith,  (born  September  23, 
1669,  and  died  at  Salisbury,  January 
28,  1679),  Joshua,  William,  Samuel, 
Maryland  Judith. 

Joshua  Mood}-  married  Mary  Green- 
leaf  in  1696.  Children:  Mary,  born 
June  26,  1697;  Elisabeth,  December 
4,  1698  ;  Joshua,  born  Nov.  11,  1700  ; 
Abigail,  born  September  30,  1703; 
and  Judith,  born  October  26,  1705. 

Elisabeth,  second  daughter  of  Mr. 
Joshua  Mood}",  married  my  great-grand- 
father, Capt.  James  Smith,  the  first 
owner  of  the  Crane-neck  hill  farm. 

Caleb  Moody,  married  Ruth  Morse, 
Dec.  9,  1690,  and  settled  on  a  farm  at 


Pipestave  hill,  now  known  as  the 
Ridgway  place.  Their  daughter  Elisa- 
beth, married  Mr.  Ezekiel  Hale,  whose 
daughter  Ruth,  became  the  wife  of 
John  Little,  of  Crane-neck  hill. 

William  Moody,  of  Ipswich,  Eng., 
settled  on  a  farm  in  Oldtown,  which  is 
still  retained  by  his  descendants  ;  the 
son  of  Mr.  X.  Warren  Moody,  being 
the  ninth  generation  born  on  the  place. 

William  Moody  married  Mehetabel 
Sewell,  November,  1684,  and  settled 
on  a  farm  in  Byfield,  where  his  descend- 
ants became  prominent  citizens.  It 
was  from  one  of  these,  Capt.  Paul 
Moody,  that  the  company  which  found- 
ed the  first  woolen  factory  in  the  state, 
purchased  the  water  power  at  the  falls 
of  the  river  Parker.  Perkins's  cut 
nails  were  first  manufactured  in  the 
mill  house  previously  owned  by  Capt. 
Moody.  By  such  surroundings  his 
sons  from  youth,  became  initiated  in 
mechanics. 

Paul  Moody,  jr.,  and  Steven  Kent, 
manufactured  the  first  broadcloth  in  the 
United  States,  at  the  factory  in  Byfield. 
Afterwards  Mr.  Moody  was  engaged 
on  the  mills  at  Waltham,  then  in  com- 
pany with  John  Dummer.  another  By- 
field  genius,  and  Kirk  Boot ;  he  was 
prominent  amongst  the  founders  of  the 
city  of  Lowell,  ranking  as  the  first  ma- 
chinist in  Xew  England. 

Davjd  Moody,  a  younger  brother, 
superintended  the  construction  of  the 
Boston  mill  dam,  and  for  several  years 
was  the  surerintendent  of  the  iron 
works  there. 

The  two  oldest  sons  of  Capt.  Paul 
Moody,  Xathan  and  Samuel,  after 
graduating  at  Dartmouth  college,  with 
another  son,  Enoch,  went  to  Hallo  well, 
Maine,  where  Mr.  Enoch  Moody  found- 
ed the  Hailowell  bank.  Afterwards  he 


OF   A 


161 


returned  to  Massachusetts  and  became 
a  resident  of  Newburyport,  where  he 
died. 

Rev.  Joshua  Mood}-,  the  oldest  son 
of  William,  of  England,  born  in  1632, 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1655 ;  was  or- 
dained at  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  1671 ; 
was  minister  of  the  first  church  in  Bos- 
ton, from  May  23,  1684,  till  1692,  and 
died  in  Boston,  July  4,  1697,  in  his 
65th  }-ear.  This  divine  was  distinguish- 
ed for  his  vehement  opposition  to  the 
witchcraft  delusion,  in  which  he  stood 
nearly  alone  amongst  the  New  England 
clergy,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  himself 
becoming  a  victim  to  the  popular  frenzy. 
Caleb,  the  second  son  of  Mr.  William 
Mood}-,  represented  Newbury  in  the 
General  Court,  where  his  plucky  resist- 
ance to  the  t}Tant,  Sir  Edmund  An- 
dross,  caused  him  to  be  imprisoned  for 
treason. 

Rev.  Joseph  Moodj^  of  York,  the 
father  of  the  renowned  Master  Moody 
of  Dummer  Academy,  was  known 
throughout  the  colony  as  "Handker- 
chief Moody,"  from  his  wearing,  for 
many  years,  a  handkerchief  over  his  face 
in  the  pulpit,  or  in  any  public  place. 
This  monomania  was  induced  bjr  the 
idea  that  he  was  responsible  for  the 
death  of  an  intimate  friend ;  to  expiate 
his  sin  he  veiled  his  face  forevermorc 
from  the  sight  of  his  fellow  mortals. 
This  pious  maniac  was  a  man  of,  supe- 
rior ability,  which  was  manifested  in 
various  civil  offices,  including  that  of 
count}*-  judge,  which  he 'held  previous 
to  entering  the  ministry.  His  son, 
Samuel  Mood}',  a  graduate  of  Har- 
vard in  1 763,  became  the  first  preceptor 
of  Dummer  Academy,  Master  Moody 
was  a  stout,  stalwart  man,  odd  and  ec- 
centric, but  few  teachers  have  been  more 
revered  and  beloved  by  their  pupils, 


amongst  whom  he  lived  to  count  with 
some  of  the  most  eminent  men  in  the 
country.  To  dunces  he  showed  as  lit- 
tle sympathy  or  mercy  as  Master  Chase. 
He  was  wont  to  mingle  in  the  sports 
of  his  scholars,  whom  he  encouraged 
to  become  good  swimmers,  for  which 
exercise  the  vicinity  of  the  river 
Parker  gave  ample  opportunity.  He 
also,  to  the  horror  of  the  Puritan  com- 
munity, introduced  dancing  as  a  school 
exercise,  a  French  dancing  master  be- 
ing hired  to  give  the  boys  instruction. 
I  think  the  dancing  hall  was  in  the  loft 
of  the  school-room,  in  the  gamble  roof, 
which  was  well  lighted  by  end  windows, 
and  dormer  ones  in  front.  This  pro- 
ject, which  no  one  but  the  omnipotent 
and  favorite  Master  Moody  could  have 
carried  out,  caused  a  great  commotion. 
Mrs.  Daniel  Chute,  who  had  two  sons 
in  the  school,  wrote  a  long  poem,  com- 
mencing : 

"Ye  sons  of  Byfield,  now  draw  near; 

Leave  worship  for  the  dance ; 
Nor  farther  walk  in  wisdom's  ways, 

But  in  the  ways  of  France ;" 

and  Dea.  Benjamin  Colman,  as  long 
an  essay,  in  which  he  vehemently  pro- 
tested against  this  innovation,  holding 
forth  in  the  strongest  terms'  its  foolish 
frivolity,  and  the  enormity  of  promis- 
cuous dancing  in  general. 

For  thirty  years  Master  Moody  held 
undisputed  sway  over  the  academy ; 
then  the  infirmities  of  age  became  so 
evident  that  the  appointment  of  a  new 
teacher  was  deemed  a  necessary.  To 
effect  this  it  was  expedient  to  obtain  an 
act  of  incorporation,  which  gave  the 
trustees  greater  control  over  the  estab- 
lishment. It  was  a  delicate  and  pain- 
ful task  to  ask  the  resignation  of  such 
a  man  as  Master  Moody,  and  he  did 
not  readily  resign  the  sceptre  he  had  so 
21 


162 


REMIXISCEXCES 


long  wielded,  but  at  length  was  induced 
to  do  so,  on  March  25,  1790.  He  lived 
until  1796,  spending  most  of  his  time 
amongst  his  old  pupils,  at  whose  homes 
he  ever  met  a  cordial  reception.  He 
died  at  Exeter,  N.  H.  The  following 
is  the  epitaph  on  his  tombstone,  in  the 
graveyard  at  York,  Me. : 

"  Integer  vitw  celerisque  purus. 
Here  lies  the  remains  of  SAMUEL  MOODY, 
ESQ.,  Preceptor  of  Dummer  Academy  (the 
First  Institution  of  the  kind  in  Mass.).  He 
left  no  child  to  mourn  his  sudden  death  (for 
he  died  a  Bachelor),  yet  his  numerous  pupils 
•in  the  U.  S.  will  ever  retain  a  lively  sense  of 
the  Sociability,  Industry,  Integrity  and  Piety 
he  possessed  in  an  uncommon  degree  as  well 
as  the  disinterested,  zealous,  faithful  and  use- 
ful manner  he  discharged  the  duties  of  the 
Academy  for  30  years.  He  died  at  Exeter 
Dec.  17,  act  70." 

Rev.  Samuel  Moody,  born  January  4, 
1675  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1697  : 
was  ordained  in  York.  Maine,  Decem- 
ber 20,  1700,  and  there  died  November 
13,  1747.  Parson  Moody  was  chap- 
lain in  the  arm}'  at  the  reduction  of 
Louisburg.  So  confident  was  he  of 
the  success  of  our  troops  that  he  took 
with  him  a  hatchet  to  cut  the  images  in 
the  Catholic  churches. 

Samuel  Mood}*,  born  in  1700,  com- 
manded the  fort  at  Pemaquid.  then  Fort 
George  ;  was  a  physician  in  Brunswick, 
Me.,  where  he  died  in  1758. 

Rev.  John  Moody,  born  in  1 705  ; 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1727  ;  was  or- 
dained in  Newmarket  November  25, 
1730,  and  died  October  15,  1778,  aged 
se  vent}-- three. 

Rev.  Amos  Moody,  born  November 
20,  1739  ;  graduated  at  Harvard  1759  ; 
was  ordained  in  Pelham,  N.  H.,  Nov- 
20,  1765;  dismissed  in  1792,  and  died 
March  22,  1819,  aged  seventy-nine. 

Rev.  Silas  Moody,  born  April  28, 
1742;  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1761  ; 
was  ordained  in  Arundel  January  9, 
1771,  and  died  in  April,  1816. 


Stephen  Moody,  Harvard,  1790,  was 
a  lawyer  in  Gilmanton,  N.  H.,  where 
he  died. 

The  arms  of  Moodye  (Ipswich.  Co. 
Suffolk,  Eng.)  are: 


AKUENT,  ON  A  CHEVRON,  ENGRAILED  SABLE.  BETWEEN 
THREE     TREFOILS     SLIPPED    VERT,    Ar-    MANY    LOZEN- 
GES  OK;     ON  A  CHIEF   AZCBE.    TWO   AKMS  ISSUING 
FROM    CLOUDS     PPK.     VESTED    BENDY     OK,     AND 
GULIS,     HOLDING     IN    HANDS    A   ROSE   OF   THE 
LAST.      CREST— TWO   ARMS    EMBOWERED      IN 
SALTIRE,     THE     DEXTER     VESTED     GULES, 
THE    SOTISTER  VERT,    EACH    HOLDING   A 
CUTLASS   ARGENT,   HILTED  OR. 

Richard,  senior,  and  Stephen  Kent, 
brothers,  with  their  wives,  came  to  Ips- 
wich in  1635,  thence  to  "Newbury  the 
same  year,  in  the  party  of  first  settlers. 
with  Messrs.  Parker  and  Noyes.  Ste- 
phen Kent  went  to  Haverhill,  thence  to 
Woodbridge,  N.  J.  His  second  wife, 
Ann.  died  in  1660.  He  then  married 
Eleanor,  widow  of  William  Scadlock, 
May  9,  1662.  Children:  Elisabeth, 
Hannah,  Steven,  Rebecca  and  Mary. 

Richard  Keht,  senior,  had  three  sons 
—  Richard,  jr.,  and  James,  born  in 
England,  and  John,  born  in  Newbury — 
a  daughter,  Rebecca,  who  married  Sam- 
uel Scullard,  then  John  Bishop  ;  Sarah, 
whom  he  left  in  England,  and  other 
daughters.  Richard  Kent,  senior, 
maltster,  was  a  large  landholder ;  his 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


163 


house  and  malthouse  were  at  the  foot 
of  Kent  street. 

Richard  Kent,  jr.,  and  his  brother 
James  owned  Kent's  Island,  and  land 
in  Oldtown  extending  to  Oldtown  hill. 

Richard  Kent,  jr. ,  married  Jane 

who  died  June  26,  1674.  He  married 
his  second  wife,  Mrs.  Joanna  David- 
son, Jan.  6,  1675.  He  died  Nov.  25, 
1689,  leaving  no  heirs. 

James  Kent  died  Dec.  12,  1681, 
leaving  one  sou,  John,  who  inherited 
the  whole  estate.  He  married  Mary 
Hobbs  Feb.  24,  1665.  He  made  his 
will  the  first  of  Januaiy,  1712,  in  which 
he  gave  his  dwelling-house,  jbarn,  shop, 
and  two  orchards,  half  of  his  island, 
household  goods,  a  horse,  etc.,  to  his 
wife,  Mary,  for  her  use  and  comfort 
during  life,  and  "  to  give,  sell  or  dis- 
pose of  as  she  shall  think  fit  among 
her  children  and  grandchildren  at  her 
decease  or  before  as  she  ma}r  have  oc- 
casion. Also  I  give  my  said  wife  all 
money  I  shall  have  in  possession  at  the 
time  of  my  decease.  To  my  son  Rich- 
ard Kent,  I  do  confirm  the  gift  of  my 
uncle  Richard  Kent,  late  of  Newburjr, 
aforesaid,  deceased,  of  eight  score  acres 
of  land  upon  said  island  given  by  my 
said  uncle  to  my  said  son,  so  as  that  he 
may  enjoy  the  same.  I  do  give  him 
my  said  son  the  other  half  of  sd.  Island 
both  meadow  and  upland  &  appurte- 
nances thereunto  belonging,  together 
with  all  my  housing  &  orchards  there- 
on, &  all  my  common  privileges  & 
rights  in  all  the  common  undivided 
lands  for  pastures  where  I  have  rights 
within  the  township  of  Newbury  afore- 
sd  &  my  wood  lot,  with  all  my  right  in 
the  lands  where  the  sd.  wood  lot  is 
made,  with  all  other  of  my  estate  both 
real  and  personal  wheresoever  &  what- 
soever it  may  consist,  excepting  what 


is  before  given  to  my  wife,  &  that 
which  I  do  hereby  give  to  the  rest  of 
of  my  children,  on  condition  that  he 
my  sd.  son  Richard  Kent  do  perform 
the  trust  1  shall  repose  &  commit  unto 
him  as  my  executor  to  this  my  last 
will. 

I  give  to  my  daughter  Jane  Smith, 
the  wife  of  my  son-in-law  James  Smith 
five  pounds,  together  with  what  she  has 
already  received  &  has  been  given  her: 

I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  son-in 
law  Jacob  Toppan  four  pounds,  to  be 
divided  among  the  children  of  Sarah 
Toppan  his  late  wife  deceased. 

I  give  unto  Sarah  Thing,  who  was 
the  wife  of  my  son  James  Kent,  late  of 
Newbur}'  aforesaid  deceased,  twemty 
shillings. 

I  give  unto  Elizabeth  Kent  widow  & 
Relict  of  my  son  James  Kent  of  New- 
bury deceased  twenty  shillings. 

I  do  ratify  and  confirm  my  late  con- 
veyance of  my  land  in  the  upper  com- 
mons made  to  my  grandson  James 
Smith  jun,  according  to  the  tenor  of 
the  deed  &  on  the  condition  thereof 
whereby  I  have  conveyed  the  same  to 
him." 

The  bequest  in  the  "upper  com- 
mons," was  the  James  Smith  farm,  on 
Crane-neck  hill,  West  Newbury.  As 
the  house  was  built  in  1707,  James 
and  Elizabeth  (Moody)  Smith  had  been 
in  possession  five  years,  when  this  will 
was  written. 

Col.  Richard  Kent  married  first,  Mrs. 
Sarah  Greenleaf;  second,  Mrs.  Han- 
nah Carter  of  Charlestown,  whose  moth- 
er was  a  daughter  of  Daniel  Gookin,  a 
preacher  much  valued  in  his  day.  Col. 
Kent  by  his  will,  entailed  Kent's  Island 
to  his  son  Richard,  and  after  his  de- 
cease to  his  oldest  son,  and  to  the  old- 
est male  heir  forever.  He  was  a  prom- 


164 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


inent  and  influential  man  in  the  town. 
His  monument  on  the  old  burying  hill 
bears  the  following  inscription  : 

HERE   LIES  INTERRED 
THE   BODY   OF 

RICHARD  KENT,  ESQ., 

LATE  COLONEL  OF  THE 

SECOND   REGIMENT    IN    THE 

COCXTT   ®F   ESSEX,    WHO   DEPARTED 

THIS   LIFE  MAY   THE   8TH,    1740, 
IN     THE     68    YEAR     OF     HIS     AGE. 

Col.  Kent's  son,  Richard,  came  into 
possession  of  the  whole  of  Kent  Island 
according  to  the  entail,  but  the  birth  of 
twins,  his  first  sons,  Stephen  and  Jo- 
seph, on  May  9,  1741,  brought  an  un- 
expected difficulty,  as  the  nurse  could 
not  or  would  not  sa}*  which  was  the 
first  born.  This  question  has  never 
been  decided,  though  a  long  and  trouble- 
some lawsuit  ensued,  which  at  length 
was  ended  by  an  equal  division  of  the 
property.  I  give  a  copy  of  the  final 
decision  by  the  court. 

"COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

In  the  j'ear  of  oue  Lord  One  Thous- 
and Seven  Hundred  and  Eighty  Four, 
an  act  for  apportioning  and  Establish- 
ing the  Posession  of  the  heirs  at  Law 
of  Richard  Kent,  son  of  Richard  Kent, 
late  of  Newbury  deceast,  to  a  certain 
Island  called  Kent's  Island  in  Newbury 
aforesaid. 

Whereas  the  said  Richard  Kent  the 
Father,  by  his  last  will  and  testament 
bearing  date  the  sixth  day  of  May.  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord,  One  Thousand  Seven 
Hundred  and  Fort}-,  among  other  things, 
did  devise  that  his  son  Richard  above 
said,  should  have  and  enjoy  the  whole 
of  the  Island  aforesaid  during  his  nat- 
ural life,  and  after  his  decease  his  old- 
est Son  should  have  and  enjoy  the 
same,  as  an  estate  tail  to  his.  and  the 
heirs  male  of  his  Body  Forever.  Which 
last  will  and  testament  was  afterwards 
duly  proved  and  approved— and  the 
said  Richard  the  son,  on  the  death  of 
his  father,  entered  into  possession  of 
the  premises  devised  as  aforesaid,  and 
thereof  died  siezed,  leaving  issue  Jo- 


seph Kent  and  Stephen  Kent  twin 
brothers,  and  Moses  Kent,  a  }*oungcr 
brother,  his  sole  heirs,  and  thereupon 
the  sd.  Joseph  &  Stephen  entered  into 
the  possession  thereof,  and  still  hold 
the  same,  and  by  reason  of  some  singu- 
lar, and  extraordinary  circumstances 
attending  the  birth  of  the  said  Joseph 
and  Stephen,  it  remained  uncertain 
which  is  the  oldest  son.  although  a  suit 
at  law,  and  the  verdict  of  two  juries, 
have  been  had  to  determine  the  ques- 
tion. By  which  uncertainty  great  diffi- 
culty and  contention  may  further  arise 
among  the  heirs  of  the  said  Richard  to 
the  utter  ruin  of  the  improvements, 
and  cultivation  of  so  valuable  an 
an  Island,  and  to  the  Disgust  of  divers 
others  good  citizens,  from  preventing 
of  which  :-*- 

Be  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives,  in  General 
Court  assembled,  and  by  the  authority 
of  the  same,  that  the  Justices  of  the 
Supreme  Court,  on  the  application  of 
the  said  Joseph.  Stephen  and  Moses, 
or  on  the  application  of  either  of  them, 
his  or  their  heirs,  shall  cause  partition 
of  the  said  Island  to  be  made,  and  by 
like  Process  as  is  provided  for  dividing 
of  other  Real  Estate  on  application  to 
the  said  Court : 

One  third  part  of  the  said  Island 
shall  be  set  off  to  the  said  Joseph  Kent 
or  his  heirs,  one  third  to  the  said  Ste- 
phen Kent  or  his  heirs,  one  third  to  the 
said  Moses  Kent  or  his  heirs." 

The  island  is  now  in  possession  of 
the  heir  of  Stephen  Kent,  Joshua  Xoyes 
Kent,  he  and  his  brother,  John  Kent, 
being  the  seventh  in  descent  from  Rich- 
ard Kent,  jr.,  and  Mr.  Joshua  N.  Kent's 
sons,  and  grandson,  are  the  eighth  and 
ninth  generations  on  the  island,  and 
tenth  in  descent  from  Richard  Kent, 
sen.  The  Kents  have  been  esteemed 
and  influential  citizens.  In  1636, 
Richard  Kent,  sen.  was  chosen  among 
the  first  "'seven  men,"  to  conduct  the 
town's  alf'airs.  First  called  '-seven 
men,"  then  "town's  men,"  finally  "se- 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


165 


lectmen."  Stephen,  the  brother  of 
Richard,  sen.,  was  one  of  the  four, 
who  with  Mr.  Edward  Eawson  "coritra- 
dicented"  the  order  for  moving  the 
meeting-house  from  the  lower  green. 
In  1640  Richard  Kent*,  jr.,  "in  ye 
name  of  nine  others,"  petitioned  the 
General  Court,  to  grant  that  Newbury 
should  hold  the  whole  of  Plum  Island, 
"to  relieve  our  pinching  necessities." 
During  the  trouble  in  the  church,  the 
names  of  Richard,  John  and  James 
Kent  are  among  those  adhering  to  Mr. 
Parker's  part}'.  In  1683,  with  ten  oth- 
ers, Capt.  John  Kent  petitioned  that 
Newbury  might  be  made  a  port  of  en- 
try  as  well  as  Salem.  This  Capt.  Kent 
commanded  the  brig  Merrimack,  which 
was  taken  by  pirates  in  Martha's  Vine- 
yard sound,  Aug.  22,  1669.  In  1788, 
Richard  and  Abel  Kent  gave  the  loca- 
tion to  the  town  of  the  lower  part  of 
Kent  street ;  a  lane  led  thence  through 
the  Coker  estate  to  High  street,  which 
was  called  Coker's  lane. 

Amos  Kent,  graduate  of  Harvard, 
1795,  was  a  lawyer  in  Chester,  N.  H. 

Moody  Kent,  graduate  of  Harvard, 
1801 ,  practiced  law  in  Concord,  N.  H. 

The  arms  of  Kent  are  : 


ARGENT,  LEOPARD'S  HEAD  OR;  THREE  MULLETS  VERT, 

TWO  AND  ONE  COUNTERCHARGED. 

CREST— GRIFFIN'S  HEAD  OR. 


Joseph  Atkins,  born  in  1680,  came 
from  Isle  of  Wight  to  Newbury,  with  his 
wife,  and  sons,  William  and  Joseph, 
and  William's  wife,  about  1728.  Tra- 
dition asserts  that  he  had  been  a  lieu- 
tenant in  the  British  navy,  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Queen  Anne.  Mrs.  Atkins, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Strover,  died 
soon  after  her  arrival,  and  the  widower 
married  a  second  wife,  Mary  (Dudley) 
Wainright,  widow  of  Francis  Wain- 
right,  daughter  of  Gov.  Joseph  Dud- 
le}",  and  sister  of  Katherine,  wife  of 
Lieut. -Gov.  Dummer.  Captain  At- 
kins, as  he  was  styled,  built  a  house 
which  is  still  standing  on  the  lower  side 
of  Strong  street.  At  its  erection  it 
was  surrounded  by  extensive  grounds 
reaching  to  High  street,  a  garden  hand- 
somely laid  out  stretched  in  front  to  the 
river,  and  a  broad  avenue  shaded  b}* 
trees  led  to  the  mansion.  Capt.  At- 
kins was  prominent  both  in  the  town 
and  church,  being  vestryman  and  war- 
den at  Queen,  Ann's  chapel,  and  a  war- 
den at  St.  Paul's.  The  erection  of  the 
church  by  the  "water  side,"  was  first 
suggested  b}~  him,  and  towards  which 
he  gave  fifty  pounds,  and  at  the  first 
sale  of  pews  he  headed  the  list  by  tak- 
ing four,  his  son  William  taking  a  fifth. 
In  1738,  permission  was  granted  Jo- 
seph Atkins,  esq.,  and  sixty-four  oth- 
ers, to  build  a  wharf  at  the  foot  of 
Queen,  now  Market  street.  His  tomb 
in  the  St.  Paul's  church  yard  bears  this 
inscription : 

"This  stone  is  erected  to  the  Memory  of 
Joseph  Atkins  Esquire.  One  of  the  Found- 
ers and  A  Generous  Benefactor  of  this 
Church.  Formerly  an  Eminent  Merchant  in 
this  Towne,  and  Highly  Esteemed  by  those 
who  knew  him.  He  departed  this  life  Jan. 
2d,  1773,  Aged  92. 

And  of  Mrs.  Mary  Atkins  : 

The  Virtuous  and  amiable  Relick  of  Jo- 
seph Atkins,  Esq.,  And  Daughter  of  His 
Excellency  Joseph  Dudley.  She  died  No- 
vember 12th,  1774.  Aged  82. 


166 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


Joseph  and  Mary  Atkins  had  one 
son,  Dudle}',  born  in  1731  ;  he  gradu- 
ated at  Harvard  in  1748. 

Prior  to  the  decease  of  Col.  Richard 
Kent,  of  Kent's  Island.  Col.  Richard 
having  entailed  the  estate  to  his  oldest 
son,  Richard,  by  his  first  wife,  and  to 
the  oldest  male  heir  forever,  the  family 
had  removed  to  a  residence  owned  by 
Col.  Kent  in  Newburyport,  where  he 
died,  and  where  his  widow,  formerly 
Hannah  (Gookin)  Carter,  and  her  chil- 
dren, one  son  and  two  daughters  by 
second  marriage,  continued  to  reside. 

Madam  Kent  was  a  superior  woman, 
possessed  of  a  sound  understanding 
and  great  benevolence,  and  although  a 
most  sincere  and  pious  Christian,  her 
religion  had  nothing  in  it  of  austerity 
or  bigotry.  On  winter  evenings  it  was 
her  custom  to  collect  her  children  around 
her  to  read  to  them  from  some  instruct- 
ive book,  while  she  earnestly  strove 
to  imbue  them  thoroughly  with  the 
principles  and  precepts  of  the  Bible. 

Madam  Kent  was  a  neighbor  of  Capt. 
Atkins.  The  society  of  this  interest- 
ing family  must  have  been  most  conge- 
nial to  young  Dudley  Atkins  ;  on  Ma}' 
4,  1752,  he  led  to  the  Imnenial  altar 
Miss  Sarah  Kent.  Their  children  were 
Maiy  Rapell,  born  August,  1753  ;  Jo- 
seph, born  April,  1755  ;  Hannah,  born 
April,  1957 ;  Katherine,  born  Oct. 
1758;  Dudley,  born  Sept.,  1760:  Re- 
becca, born  March,  1767. 

Dudle}r  Atkins  was  a  prominent  mer- 
chant and  a  leading  citizen  of  the  town, 
a  warden  and  active  member  of  St. 
Paul's  church. 

Oct.  21,  1765,  Newburyport  held  a 
town  meeting  to  instruct  their  represen- 
tative. Dudley  Atkins,  esq..  "relating 
to  his  acting  in  the  General  Court," 
respecting  the  Stamp  Act.  These  in- 


structions expressed  the  most  loyal  sen- 
timents toward  the  king,  but  the  Stamp 
Act  was  esteemed  a  peculiar  grievance, 
and  he  was  directed  to  use  his  influence 
to  his  utmost  ability  "that  the  rights 
and  privileges  of  the  province  may  be 
preserved  inviolate."  A  long  list  of 
resolutions  ends  with  abhorrence  of  all 
seditious  and  mobbish  insurrections,  of 
all  breaches  of  the  peace,  and  "that  you 
will  readihy  concur  in  any  constitution- 
al measure  that  may  be  necessary  to  se- 
cure the  public  tranquillity." 

The  troubles  with  England  increased, 
but  Dudley  Atkins  remained  loyal  to 
King  George.  On  one  occasion  his 
house  was  surrounded  b}~  a  mob  ;  Mr. 
Atkins  being  indisposed,  several  gentle- 
men went  to  his  assistance,  but  his 
wife,  the  courageous  Sarah  (Kent)  At- 
kins quelled  the  infuriated  populace. 
Contrary  to  the  remonstrance  of  friends, 
she  opened  the  door,  and  addressed 
the  tkrong,  telling  them,  "that  her  hus- 
band was  ill  in  bed,  might  not  live  to 
see  them  again  ;  they  had  always  re- 
spected him,  and  the}-  ought  not  to  mo- 
lest her  and  her  small  and  helpless  chil- 
dren." The  evil  spirit  was  laid.  Prom- 
ises of  security  were  given,  and  the  mob 
retired  with  cheers  for  Madame  Atkins. 
Dudley  Atkins,  esq.,  died  Sept.  24, 
1761,  aged  38  years.  His  widow  went 
to  Amesbury  where -she  resided  for  a 
time.  Feeling  the  necessity  of  making 
some  exertion  towards  the  support  of 
her  young  family,  she  determined  to 
open  a  store  on  State  street,  Newjbury- 
port.  This  was  in  the  building  now  occu- 
pied by  Mrs.  Altar.  It  was  mid-winter 
when  the  removal  took  place,  the  furni- 
ture and  the  family,  with  the  exception 
of  Mrs.  Atkins  and  a  man-servant,  had 
gone,  when  a  violent  snow  storm  so 
blocked  the  roads  that  it  would  be  im- 


OP   A  ETONAGENAKIAX. 


167 


possible  to  travel  by  the  usual  mode  of 
conveyance  for  some  days.  Unwilling 
to  remain  thus  separated  from  her 
new  home,  where  her  presence  was  so 
imperatively  demanded,  infusing  her 
spirit  of  enterprise,  as  was  her  wont, 
into  those  around  her,  she  obtained  the 
willing  consent  of  her  own  man,  and 
another  belonging  to  the  farm,  to  draw 
her  to  Newburyport  on  a  hand-sled, 
which  they  accomplished  without  any 
great  difficulty.  Passing  the  house  of 
a  friend,  where  a  large  part}*  were  as- 
sembled at  dinner,  upon  seeing  her 
unique  equipage  they  rushed  out  with 
ludicrous  expressions  of  surprise  and 
congratulation,  while  the  contrast  be- 
tween their  situation  and  pursuits  and 
hers  were  vividly  striking.  Friends  in 
Boston  supplied  Madam  Atkins  with 
fine  goods,  the  store  prospered,  and  be- 
came the  fashionable  emporium  of  State 
street. 

Gov.  Joseph  Dudley  married  Rebec- 
ca Tyng.  Their  son,  Edward,  brother 
of  Mrs.  Joseph  Atkins,  left  a  large  es- 
tate in  Tyngsborough  to  his  daughter, 
Mrs.  Winslow.  This  lady,  a  childless 
widow,  proposed  to  adopt  .young  Dud- 
ley Atkins,  and  make  him  her  heir  if 
he  would  add  Tyng  to  his  name.  As 
there  was  the  oldest  son  Joseph  to 
transmit  the  name  of  Atkins,  this  offer 
was  accepted,  but  Joseph  Atkins,  an 
enterprising  ship-master,  died  unmar- 
ried. His  vessel  was  wrecked  on  a  re- 
turn voyage,  in  a  winter  storm,  and  the 
whole ,  crew  perished.  The  body  of 
Capt.  Atkins,  found  frozen  to  the  mast, 
was  brought  to  the  bereaved  home  for 
burial  amongst  his  kindred  in  St.  Paul's 
church  yard.  The  stone  erected  to  his 
memory  bears  this  inscription  : 

"Here  are  interred  The  Remains  of  CAPT. 
JOSEPH  ATKINS,  who  (with  his  whole  Ship's 


Company)   perished  by  Shipwreck  on  Cape 
Cod,  Feb.  ye  8th,  1787.     Aged  31  years. 

He  that  goeth  on  his  way  weeping  & 
beareth  good  Seed  shall  doubtless  come  again 
with  Joy  brigning  his  Sheaves  with  him." 

Mary  Rapell  Atkins  married  George, 
son  of  George  and  Catherine  (Gore) 
Searle,  in  1779.  This  lady  was  named 
for  a  Wainright,  daughter  of  Mrs.  Jo- 
seph Atkins,  who  married  Judge  Ra- 
pell, an  Englishmen,  judge  of  the  Su- 
perior court,  and  judge  of  the  Admir- 
alty for  these  Provinces,  in  the  time  of 
George  2d.  It  is  said  he  never  had 
but  one  decision  reversed  during  forty 
years. 

Hannah  Atkins  died  Sept.  25,  1771, 
in  the  15th  year  of  her  age. 

Katherine  Atkins  married  Samuel 
Elliot  of  Boston ;  she  was  the  ancest- 
ress of  Samuel  Elliot,  president  of  Har- 
vard Universnrv,  and  other  distinguished 
persons. 

Rebecca  Atkins  died  June  23,  1842, 
unmarried. 

In  1788,  Dudley  A.  Tyng,  esq.,  pur- 
chased the  present  Tyng  estate  on 
High  street  for  his  mother,  to  which  she 
removed  with  her  daughter  Rebecca. 

Mrs.  George  Searle,'  having  become 
a  widow  with  ten  orphan  children,  took 
her  mother's  store  on  State  street,  which 
she  kept  until  after  the  fire  of  1811. 
Mrs.  Margaret  Curson  of  Curson's  mill 
was  her  daughter. 

Dudley  Atkins  Tyug  fitted  for  college 
at  Dummer  academy,  graduated  at  Har- 
vard in  1781,  and  studied  law  with 
Judge  Parsons  in  Newburyport.  In 
1795,  he  was  appointed  by  Adams, 
Collector  of  the  district  of  Newbury- 
port. For  some  years  he  was  Record- 
er of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachu- 
setts ;  during  this  period  he  resided  in 
Cambridge,  but  Newburyport  was  his 
favorite  abode,  and  most  of  his  sum- 


168 


REMINISCENCES 


mers  were  passed  here.  He  first  mar- 
ried Sarah,  daughter  of  Stephen  Higgin- 
son  of  Boston  ;  second,  her  sister  Elis- 
abeth. Madam  Sarah  (Kent)  Atkins 
died  on  the  16th  of  October,  1810, 
aged  81.  In  1821,  Squire  Tyug  bnilt 
the  lower  of  the  two  Tyng  houses  for  his 
sister  Rebecca,  and  having  remodelled 
and  enlarged  the  other  mansion,  in  the 
autumn  of  that  year  he  returned  to 
Newburyport,  which  was  his  permanent 
reisdeuce  until  his  death  on  Aug.  1, 
1829,  aged  69.  Dudley  A.  Tyng,  like 
his  father  and  grand-father,  was  an  ac- 
tive and  beneficent  member  of  St.  Paul's 
church,  filling  the  office  of  warden  for 
some  j'ears.  He  gave  a  silver  paten 
for  the  communion  service,  which  bears 
this  inscription : 

PRESENTED    BY    HON.  D.  A.  TYNG,  ESQ. 

In  1790,  Hon.  T.  Dalton  and  D.  A. 
Tyng,  esq.,  were  chosen  lay  delegates 
to  a  convention  at  Salem,  to  prepare 
an  Ecclesiastical  constitution  for  Mas- 
sachusetts, which  was  adopted  Ivy  St. 
Paul's  church,  Jan.  16, 1791 ;  the  same 
delegates  with  Hon.  Jona.  Jackson 
and  Mr.  Lewis  Jenkins  were  a  commit- 
tee to  ratify  the  same  at  the  next  con- 
vention in  Boston. 

Dudley  A.  and  Sarah  Tyng  had  eight 
children :  Sarah,  who  married  first, 
Charles  Head ;  second,  Joseph  Mar- 
quand.  Susan  C.,  married  Edward  A. 
Newton ;  Dudley,  who  died  in  infan- 
cy ;  a  second  Dudley,  who  took  the 
name  of  Atkins. 

Dr.  Dudley  Tj-ng  Atkins  graduated 
at  Harvard  in  1816,  and  studied  medi- 
cine. He  married  Ann,  daughter  of 
Judge  Bowman  of  Wilksbarre,  Pa. 
Eor  a  time  was  practising  physician  in 
Newburyport,  afterwards  went  to  the 
city  of  New  York,  where  he  died 
April  7,  1845. 


The  Rev.  Stephen  Higginson  Tyng, 
graduated  at  Harvard  in  1817 ;  was 
professor  at  Jefferson  college,  set- 
tled in  Philadelphia,  but  for  more 
than  forty  }-ears  had  been  the  distin- 
guished rector  of  St.  George's  Church, 
New  York.  He  has  now  retired  from 
the  active  duties  of  the  ministiy.  He 
married,  first,  Anna,  daughter  of  Bish- 
op Griswold ;  second,  Susan,  daughter 
of  John  Mitchell,  of  Philadelphia. 

Charles  died  June  20, 1879,  aged  78. 
He  was  a  successful  ship  master,  and 
merchant ;  was  for  many  j'ears  estab- 
lished at  Havana,  Island  of  Cuba, 
where  he  endeared  hinself,  by  his 
hearty  sj-mpathy,  and  benevolence,  to 
his  countrymen  there.  He  married, 
first,  Anna  Selina  Anold,  who  died 
July  5, 1831,  aged  25  ;  second,  AnnaA., 
daughter  of  John  H.  Me  Alpine,  of 
New  York.  The  McAlpines  are  of 
the  oldest  of  the  Highland  Clans,  dat- 
ing back  to  Kenneth  McAlpine.  Feb. 
6,  in  the  year  eight  hundred  and  thir- 
ty six. 

Mary,  married  Robert  Cross,  esq. 
She  died  some  years  since. 

James,  graduated  at  Bowdoiu  in 
1827,  studied  for  the  ministry,  for 
many  }'ears  was  a  rector  in  New  York. 
He  married  Matilda  Degan,  and  died 
April  6,  1879. 

George  Tyng,  graduated  at  Har- 
vard in  1822,  and  died  April  2,  1823, 
aged  25. 

Many  of  my  readers  will  remember 
the  genial,  and  hospitable  Mis,s  Re- 
becca Atkins,  aunt  Becky,  as  she  was 
usually  styled,  and  her  pleasant  home. 
Her  house,  and  that  of  Squire  Tyng 
have  been  modernized,  but  most  of  the 
ancient  heir- looms,  that  formely  graced 
them,  are  still  retained.  Amongst 
these  are  fine  portraits  of  Joseph  At- 


OF   A 


169 


kins,  esq.  and  Mary  Dudlev,  his  sec- 
ond wife,  and  a  painting,  representing 
the  visit  of  Queen  Ann  and  the  Royal 
Family  to  the  man  of  war,  of  which 
young  Atkins  was  Lieutenant,  a  new 
vessel,  then  considered  a  model  craft. 
This  picture  Capt.  Atkins  brought  to 
America,  and  he  held  it  in  such  esti- 
mation as  to  bequeath  it  in  his  will,  as 
a  special  legacy  to  be  transmitted  from 
his  son,  and  son's  son,  through  the 
generations. 

Capt.  Joseph  Atkins,  the  second  son 
of  Joseph  Atkins,  esq.,  died  a  bachelor, 
Feb.  6,  1782,  aged  76. 

Williajn  Atkins,  esq.,  the  oldest  son, 
was  a  prominent  merchant  and  citizen, 
and  an  active  member  and  warden  of 
St.  Paul's  church.  His  name  stands 
first  on  the  list  of  two  hundred  and  six 
of  the  "water  side"  people  who  signed 
the  petition  to  be  "set  off  from  New- 
biuy,  and  incorporated  as  a  town  by 
themselves,"  and,  in  direct  contradis- 
tinction to  his  half-brother,  Dudley, 
was  an  active  Whig,  and  enthusiastic 
Revolutionist,  being  one  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Safety  and  Correspondence 
appointed  by  the  town  on  the  23d  of 
September,  1774.  Before  leaving  Eng- 
land, he  had  married  Abigail  Beck,  by 
whom  he  had  one  son  and  four  daugh- 
ters. He  built  a  house  near  where 
the  present  custom  house  now  stands, 
a  handsome  Colonial  mansion,  with 
wainscotted  rooms,  deep  window  seats, 
broad  stone  hearths,  and  fire-places 
decorated  with  Dutch  tiles  depicting 
Scripture  scenes.  At  his  death  this 
house  was  purchased  by  the  father  of 
Captains  John  and  Benjamin  Harrod ; 
there  they  and  their  sisters  were  born. 
It  Avas  burned  in  the  great  fire  of  1811, 
then  known  as  the  Harrod  house.  The 
Atkins  family  and  their  widowed  sister, 


Mrs.  Dr.  Samuel  Colman,  and  her 
children,  at  that  time  resided  opposite  ; 
their  house  was  also  burned. 

William  Atkins,  esq.,  died  Aug.  27, 
1788,  aged  77. 

Mrs.  Abigail  Atkins  died  Dec.  5, 
1786,  aged  68. 

Miss  Mary  Atkins  died  Aug.  31, 
1802,  aged  64. 

Hannah  C.  Atkins  died  June  6, 1811, 
aged  57. 

Elisabeth  Atkins  died  July  30, 1838, 
aged  88. 

Susanna  (Atkins)  Colman  died  in 
Salem,  July  9,  1827,  aged  65. 

William  Atkins,  the  only  son,  was 
lost  at  sea. 

The  Atkins  arms  are  : 


OR,  A  CROSS  QUARTERLY  PIERCED  FLORY  AND  COUNT- 
ER FLOKY,  AZURE;  BETWEEN  FOUR  MULLETS 
SABLK;  CRESCENT,  GULES,  IN  CHIEF. 
CREST— TWO  GREYHOUNDS  HEADS 
ENBOSSED,  COLLAR  DOVETAILED, 
PER  PALE  OR  AND  AZURE, 
COUNTERCHANOED. 


22 


170 


REMIXISCEXCES 


Dudley  and  Tyng  per  pale.  Dud- 
ley— Or,  lion  rampant.  Tyng — Ar- 
gent, on  a  chevron  sable  three  martlets 
proper.  Crest — a  martlet. 

Motto — "Esse  quam  videri." 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

At  the  trying  period  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, Newbury  and  Newburyport  dis- 
played great  heroism.  At  the  first  in- 
telligence of  the  battle  of  Lexington, 
four  companies  immediately  marched  to 
the  scene  of  action.  Those  from  New- 
bury were  commanded  by  Colonel 
Samuel  Gerrish  and  Colonel  Moses 
Little.  The  Newbuiyport  companies 
were  led  by  Capt.  Ezra  Lunt  and 
Colonel  Benjamin  Perkins.  On  a 
stormy  day,  as  we  sat  at  our  work, 
grandmother,  aunt  Sarah  and  mother 
often  recalled  those  stirring  times,  and 
of  a  winter's  evening  my  father  and 
other  friends  frequently  talked  over  the 
events  of  the  war.  My  father  was  an 
excellent  singer,  and  he  was  often  in- 
vited to  sing  the  songs  that  had  then 


been  popular.  Two  of  these  "The 
Vision"  and  ' •  Burgoyne's  Lamenta- 
tion," I  will  note  ;  would  that  I  could 
give  the  voice,  expression,  and  enthus- 
iasm of  the  singer. 

THE  VISION. 
"I  was  an  oU  fanner, 

Was  born  in  the  woods, 
Of  late  had  a  vision 

From  one  of  the  gods. 

"Last  Saturday  night, 
As  I  slept  on  my  bed, 
The  following  dream 
Came  into  my  head : 

"I  thought  I  was  towering 

Aloft  in  the  air, 
Then  rambled  to  Boston 

To  see  what  was  there. 

"First  viewing  the  troops, 
Which  were  tired  of  intrenching, 

Then  going  to  see  Tom, 

Who  was  giddy  with  drinking. 

"For  of  wine,  gin  and  ale 

So  freely  he  drank, 
That  he  was'^scarce  able 

To  visit  his  rank. 

"His  friends  were  all  round  him, 

And  if  you  think  fitting, 
I'll  tell  you  the  posture 

The  club  was  now  sitting. 

"There  were  Tim,  Dick  and  Will, 

And  several  more ; 
I  thought  in  the  whole, 

They  would  make  nigh  a  score. 

"Set  round  a  large  table, 

But  all  at  a  pause, 
To  think  of  a  plan 
To  enforce  these  new  laws. 

"I  wondered  at  this, 

And  asking  old  Beetle, 
For  knowing  the  villain 

Was  apt  for  to  tattle ; 

"He  honestly  told  me 

What  was  the  reason, 
.   The  Devil,  says  he, 

Has  gone  for  a  season, 

"To  help  his  fiiend  N"orth 
Project  a  new  plan, 


OF    A 


171 


And  when  this  is  done, 
We  expect  him  again ; 

"But  if  he  should  choose 

For  to  tarry  all  winter, 
We  think  it  not  safe, 

Out  of  Boston  to  venture. 

For  the  Congress  has  met, 

And  passed  such  votes, 
That  all  our  old  plans 

Are  now  come  to  nought. 

"And  the  governor  says, 

So  well  do  unite, 
He  believes  the  devilish  villains 

Determined  to  fight, 

"And  think  it  not  best 
To  provoke  them  to  blows, 

Lest  in  a  cold  winter, 
The  harbor  gets  froze ; 

"And  if  they  should  come  over  us, 
Our  fleet  could  not  save  us. 

Of  consequence, 

The  Devil  must  have  us. 

"Many  such  stories 

He  did  me  detain, 
Till  Tom  got  so  well 

He  could  stagger  again. 

"And  laying  his  course 

For  crossing  the  hall, 
He  luckily  met  -  . 

With  an  impudent  fall, 

"Which  brought  him  at  last, 
Two  yards  on  the  floor, 
Which  tickled  me  so, 
I  dreamed  no  more." 

BURGOYNE'S  LAMENTATION. 

"Ye  powers  look  down  and  pity  my  case, 
For  the  once  great  Burgoyne  is  now  in  dis- 
tress. 

For  I  am  surrounded  by  a  numerous  foe, 
Who,  I  fear,  my  whole  army  will  soon  over- 
throw. 
"Oh,  cursed  be  the  villain  who  did  us  much 

hurt, 

Who  carried  to  England  so  false  a  report. 
For  it  is  commonly  reported  in  fair  England, 
That  the  sight  of  a  Briton  would  make  Yan- 
kees run, 

"That  the  report  of  a  cannon  would  make 
Yankees  fly, 


"Oh,  were  they  as  numerous  as  stars  in  the 

sky. 

To  my  woful  experience  I  found  it  was  false, 
For  of  two,  the  Yankees  are  better  than  us. 
"They  will  fight  with  great  valor  when  in  the 

open  field, 
Take  them  in  the  forest,  then  Britons  must 

yield, 
For  they  will  shut  up  one  eye,  and  squint  at 

the  gun, 

And  we  are  surely  dead  as  soon  as  that's  done. 
We  stand  no  more  chance  among  Yankee 

paws, 
Than  to  fling  an  old  cat  into  hell  without 

claws." 

On  the  arrival  of  the  "courier"  with 
news  of  the  Lexington  fight,  the  min- 
ute men  of  the  upper  parish  quickly 
gathered  at  the  training  field  on  the 
main  road.  The  company  having  been 
formed,  boards  were  thrown  over  an 
ox-cart ;  from  this  hastily  improvised 
rostrum,  Parson  Toppan  spoke  a  few 
words  of  patriotism  and  encouragement, 
then  invoked  the  Divine  blessing  upon 
the  gallant  band.  Meantime  individu- 
als were  going  from  house  to  house, 
collecting  food  and  other  necessaries. 
The  news  came  at  midnight,  and  soon 
after  sunrise  the  company  commenced 
its  march;  the  rations,  baggage,  etc., 
being  conveyed  by  two  ox- teams.  One 
can  imagine  the  sensation  throughout 
the  usually  quiet  country  side.  The 
sorrowful  faces  and  anxious  hearts, 
prayerfully  striving  to  bear  the  worst 
bravely,  for  the  sake  of  country  and 
liberty. 

By  order  q£  the  selectmen  on  the 
following  day,  a  further  supply  of  pro- 
visions was  forwarded  to  the  troops. 
Every  household  contributed,  and  the 
donations  were  most  generous.  The 
day  had  been  a  busy  one  at  Crane- 
neck  ;  the  large  and  small  ovens  had 
been  filled  and  refilled;  beef,  pork, 
hams,  flour,  meal  and  a  small  supply 


172 


KEMINTSCEXCES 


of  groceries  and  medicines,  been  pack- 
ed ;  lint  been  scraped  and  bandages 
rolled.  This  was  sad  work,  but  pro- 
vision must  be  made  for  the  worst.  It 
was  near  sunset  when  aunt  Sarah, 
(then  a  girl  of  sixteen,) on  her  way  to 
the  well,  espied  a  horseman  coming 
at  a  furious  pace  up  the  road,  swinging 
his  hat  and  shouting  :  "The  regulars  are 
coming !  The}-  have  landed  at  Plum 
Island,  have  got  to  Artichoke  bridge, 
are  burning  and  killing  all  before  them  ! " 
For  an  instant  the  maiden  stood  in 
frightened  bewilderment,  then  she  ran 
to  communicate  the  news.  The  neigh- 
bors flocked  in,  a  terror  stricken 
throng,  to  counsel  respecting  further 
measures.  Most  of  the  able  bodied 
men  armed  themselves  and  went  to 
seek  the  foe,  if  foe  were  there.  After 
the  first  excitement  had  passed,  doubts 
of  the  genuineness  of  the  tidings  arose. 
.Neither  my  grandfather  Smith,  nor 
grandsir  Little  credited  the  story,  and 
the}*  advised  every  one,  after  the  men 
had  marched  away  to  stay  quietly  at 
home  until  further  intelligence  could  be 
obtained.  A  few  did  so,  but  most,  in 
a  perfect  frenzy  of  fright,  sought  every 
means  for  safety. 

Uncle  Thurrel's  farm  at  that  time  be- 
longed to  the  family  of  the  late  Dr. 
Adams.  This  gentleman  had  been  the 
first  physician  to  settle  in  the  town  ;  he 
acquired  a  wide  spread  practice  in  the 
surrounding  infant  settlements,  and  at 
his  decease  left  a  reputation  for  superi- 
or knowledge  and  skill.  The  house 
was  occupied  by  his  grandchildren, 
and  their  aged  and  feeble  widowed 
mother.  This  household  passed  the 
night  in  the  greatest  anxiety  and 
alarm.  Having  hidden  their  choicest 
effects,  the  horse  was  harnessed  to  the 
chaise,  an  uncovered  vehicle  on  two 


wheels,  at  that  time  the  stylish  equip- 
age for  ladies,  which  was  drawn  up 
before  the  door  through  the  night, 
while  the  old  lady,  wrapped  in  a  cover- 
let sat  through  the  long  hours  in  her 

O  O 

large  arm  chair,  in  readiness  to  be  con- 
veyed down  "South  End,"  a  rocky, 
steep  declivity  at  the  southerly  side  of 
the  hill,  a  descent  from  which  one 
might  have  expected  as  dire  a  catas- 
trophe, as  from  a  raid  of  any  number 
of  "regulars." 

Old  Mr.  Joshua  Bartlett,  commonly 
designated  "Uncle  Vun,"  yoked  his 
oxen  to  the  cart,  and  took  his  family 
to  the  Platts  place,  a  lone,  unoccupied 
farm-house,  remote  from  the  road. 
Several  families  sought  the  same  ref- 
uge. Ool.  Stephen  Bartlett  was  an  in- 
fant just  weaned  ;  in  the  flurry  the  jug 
of  milk  had  been  left  behind,  and  the 
hungry  babe  demanded  his  food  so  lus- 
tily, that  some  one  in  the  distracted 
throng  proposed  to  kill  him,  lest  his 
cries  should  disclose  their  hiding  place. 

Hannah  Eastman,  an  old,  asthma- 
tic woman,  breathed  so  hard,  she  was 
wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  buried  in  the 
leaves  under  a  stone  wall,  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  house.  After  a  sleep- 
less night,  at  sunrise  the  croud  ven- 
tured home.  One  young  fellow,  in- 
stead of  marching  to  meet  the  "regu- 
lars," skedaddled  into  the  pasture, 
having  armed  himself  with  a  jnnk  of 
salt  pork,  and  half  a  loaf  brown  bread, 
in  addition  to  his  gun  and  powder 
horn ;  he  climbed  into  an  oak,  and 
quakingly  awaited  events.  The  night 
wore  on,  da}'  dawned,  the  sun  rose, 
ascended  higher  and  higher,  noon 
passed,  still  the  young  hero  durst  not 
venture  from  his  sylvan  retreat,  until 
his  absence  having  created  a  general 
alarm,  he  was  descried  by  a  squad  of 


OF   A 


173 


relatives  and  neighbors  who  had  insti- 
tuted a  search. 

One  gentleman  hid  his  papers  in  a 
hollow  tree  from  which  the}'  were  ex- 
tracted with  much  difficulty ;  his  wife 
lowered  her  silver  spoons  into  the  well, 
and  the  servant  girl,  beside  herself  with 
fright,  pulled  the  "nubs  and  drops" 
from  her  ears  and  flung  them  into  the 
same  receptacle.  The  spoons  were  re- 
covered, but  the  ear  jewels  could  never 
be  found.  It  was  an  anxious  and 
sleepless  night  for  all.  I  have  often 
heard  Mrs.  Moses  Cohnan,  then  Betty 
Little,  a  girl  of  nine,  relate  how  she 
fancied  the  wind  in  the  chimney,  and 
the  sizzling  of  the  wood  fire,  were  the 
drums  and  fifes  of  the  enemy.  Towards 
morning  the  men  and  bo}"S  returned, 
without  sight  or  hearing  of  "regulars." 
How  this  scare  arose  was  never  known, 
but  it  was  supposed  to  have  been  a 
strategem  to  try  the  mettle  of  the  peo- 
ple. 

Anxious  weeks,  which  had  brought 
but  few  tidings  from  the  army  around 
Boston,  had  glided  awa}r.  The  morn- 
ing of  the  seventeenth  of  June  dawned, 
a  hot  summer  da}T.  The  spring  had 
been  uncommonly  warm,  and  vegeta- 
tion was  unusually  forward.  In  those 
days  it  was  the  custom  to  have  men's 
garments  made  at  hoin  j.  Tailor  Palm- 
er, a  veteran  of  the  old  French  war, 
came  to  Capt.  Smith's  that  day  to  fash- 
ion the  go-to-meeting  coats  and  breeches 
for  the  summer.  Aunt  Sarah  was  sew- 
ing with  the  tailor,  when  her  ear  caught 
a  rumble.  "Did  it  thunder?"  She 
rose  and  looked  from  the  door.  Not  a 
cloud  was  in  sight.  Again  and  again 
she  caught  the  sound  as  of  distant 
thunder.  The  men  came  from  the  field 
to  luncheon,  but  paused  to  look  and 
listen.  "I'll  tell  ye  what  'tis,"  said  the 


tailor,  "its  big  guns,  cannon.  There's 
a  battle."  The  noise  increased,  and  it 
was  evident  the  old  soldier  was  right. 
Soon  smoke  was  discerned  on  the 
southern  sk}^,  which  momentarily  in- 
creased in  volume.  It  was  thought 
that  Boston  was  burning.  Higher  and 
higher  rose  the  smoke,  louder  thundered 
the  cannon,  work  was  forgotten,  the 
dinner  remained  untasted.  People  be- 
gan to  flock  up  the  hill,  in  groups  they 
watched  and  listened.  Slowly  the  lurid 
sun  sank  in  the  sky,  gradually  the  boom 
of  the  guns  ceased,  the  smoke  cleared, 
and  all  was  over.  Nothing  could  be 
done  but  to  await  intelligence,  with 
what  calmness  and  patience  could  be 
summoned.  The  news  of  the  battle  of 
Bunker  Hill,  and  the  burning  of  Charles- 
town  was  received  the  next  day,  but 
the  full  particulars  did  not  come  for 
more  than  a  week.  I  believe  no  one  in 
our  companies  were  killed,  a  few  were' 
wounded.  Col.  Joseph  Whitmore  and 
Sergeant  Amos  Pearson  of  Newbury- 
port  were  wounded,  and  several  men 
killed.  Capt.  Ezra  Lunt's  company, 
acting  as  rear  guard,  suffered  severely. 
Quite  a  number  from  the  four  com- 
panies that  fought  at  Bunker  Hill 
joined  the  disastrous  expedition  against 
Quebec,  the  September  following.  This 
force  consisted  of  eleven  companies  of 
musketmen  and  three  companies  of 
riflemen,  amounting  to  eleven  hundred 
men,  under  the  command  of  Col.  Ben- 
edict Arnold,  Lieut. -Colonel  Christo- 
pher Green  of  Rhode  Island,  and  Ma- 
jor Timothy  Bigelow  of  Massachusetts. 
The  Newbury  and  Newburyport  men 
were  in  Capt.  Ward's  company.  The 
riflemen  were  commanded  by  Capt. 
Daniel  Morgan.  The  Rev.  Samuel 
Spring,  afterwards  the  distinguished 
pastor  of  the  North  church  in  Newbury- 


174 


REMIXISCEXCES 


port,  acted  as  chaplain.  Many  noted 
men  accompanied  this  band  ;  Matthew 
Ogden,  Aaron  Burr,  John  I.  Henry,  af- 
terwards Judge  Henry  of  Pennsylva- 
nia ;  Captain,  afterwards  Gen.  Henry 
Dearborn  of  New  Hampshire  ;  Major 
Keturn  I.  Meigs,  Captains  William 
Kendricks  and  Matthew  Smith,  with 
others  whose  names  have  descended 
amongst  the  Revolutionary  heroes.  The 
detachment  arrived  in  Xewburyport 
Saturday,  Sept.  16th,  and  embarked  at 
10  a.  m.  on  Tuesdaj',  the  19th,  in  elev- 
en transports,  sloops  and  schooners. 
The  troops  were  quartered  in  the  rope- 
walk  of  Edmund  Swett,  which  extend- 
ed from  Fair  to  Federal  streets ;  the 
riflemen  bivouacked  at  the  head  of 
Rolfe's  lane,  now  Ocean  avenue,  and 
the  officers  were  entertained  at  the  spa- 
cious and  hospitable  mansions  of  Na- 
thaniel Tracy  and  Tristram  Dalton. 

This  was  a  notable  epoch  for  Xcw- 
buryport.  The  short  sojourn  of  the 
army  was,  made  a  season  of  gaiety. 
The  sunn}'  side,  with  all  the  pomp  and 
pageantry  of  war. 

On  Sunday,  the  troops,  with  drums 
rolling  and  flags  frying,  marched  to  the 
Old  South  meeting  house.  This  had 
been  completed  *but  a  few  years,  and 
was  the  largest  and  one  of  the  finest 
places  of  public  worship  in  New  Ens- 
land.  The  high  pulpit  and  elaborately- 
ornamented  sounding  board  were  cele- 
brated specimens  of  the  style  of  the 
period.  To  the  right  of  the  sacred 
desk  was  a  high  seat  for  the  sexton, 
and  before  it  the  "  elders'  seat,"  a 
square  pew,  raised  a  few  steps,  with  a 
table  in  the  centre.  In  front  of  this 
came  the  "  deacon's  seat."  To  this 
was  attached  the  communion  table, 
which  was  swung  back  when  not  in 
use.  A  broad  aisle  and  two  side  aisles 


ran  through  the  house.  The  pews  were 
square,  with  seats  all  around  and  a 
chair  in  the  centre.  Spacious  galleries 
ran  around  three  sides  of  the  house, 
the  '  •  singing  seats  "  being  opposite  the 
pulpit,  and  at  either  end  there  were 
large  porches. 

The  troops,  having  halted  in  the 
aisles,  presented  arms  as  their  chaplain. 
a  keen-eyed,  stalwart  young  fellow,  six 
feet  high,  passed  through.  The  guns 
having  been  stacked  in  the  aisles, 
the  soldiers  were  seated  in  the  body  of 
the  house,  the  galleries  and  every  other 
available  portion  being  packed  by  a 
crowd  of  citizens.  The  clergyman 
preached  fromthe  text,  "If  thy  Spirit 
go  not  up  with  us,  carry  us  not  up 
hence."  The  eloquence  and  power  of 
the  preacher  made  such  an  impression 
on  his  audience,  that  before  he  left,  a 
promise  had  been  secured  that  he 
would  return  to  the  town,  at  the  end 
of  the  war.  This  promise  was  re- 
deemed, and  the  South  church  and  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Spring,  became 
watchwords  upon  the  hill  of  Ziou. 
The  following  morning  there  was  a 
grand  review,  in  which  the  men  ap- 
peared to  great  advantage,  their  spir- 
its being  raised  b}*  the  presence  of  hun- 
dreds  of  sympathizing  spectators, 
drawn  thither  from  far  and  near.  The 
officers  were  entertained  at  dinner  and 
evening  parties,  at  which  majestic  mat- 
rons and  lovely  maidens,  in  their  rich- 
est brocades,  and  choicest  gauzes  and 
laces,  conversed  most  graciously  and 
smiled  their  sweetest,  using  every  ex- 
ertion for  the  amusement  of  the  gallant 
men,  about  to  risk  their  lives  on  the 
altar  of  liberty.  In  friendly  courtes}', 
glass  clinked  to  glass  with  fervent 
wishes  for  honor  and  success.  Grace- 
fully the  stately  minuet  was  danced. 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


175 


Enthusiastically,  patriotic  songs  were 
sung  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  spin- 
net  or  harpsicord.  On  the  morning  of 
the  nineteenth,  amid  cheer  upon  cheer 
from  the  assembled  multitude,  the 
troops  embarked.  In  a  perfect  whirl- 
wind of  patriotic  excitement,  flags  fly- 
ing, drums  beating  and  fifes  playing. 
the  transports  weighed  anchor,  their 
sails  gleaming  in  the  bright  sunlight ; 
thej-  slowly  glided  down  the  broad, 
beautiful  Merrimac,  and  with  aching- 
hearts,  but  a  brave  front,  the  citizens 
dispersed,  to  pursue  again  the  even 
tenor  of  life. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

From  the  settlement  of  the  town, 
ship-building  had  been  one  of  the  chief 
employments  of  the  "water  side  peo- 
ple." Prior  to  the  revolution,  this  bus- 
iness had  been  very  lucrative.  Though 
many  of  the  vessels  launched  at  our 
yards  were  owned  and  fitted  for  sea 
b}-  the  "Port"  merchants,  others  were 
built  expressly  for  the  English  market. 
The  British  merchants  purchased  our 
ships  and  lumber;  in  return  we  re- 
ceived their  manufactures,  and  the 
produce  from  their  possessions  in  the 
West  Indies.  As  Newburyport  was 
the  centre  for  the  trade  of  a  wide  agri- 
cultural district,  it  had  become  one  of 
the  most  thriving  of  the  sea-board 
towns. 

Partnerships  often  existed  between 
our  merchants  and  individuals  in  Eng- 
land. Mr.  Benjamin  Harris  and  an 
English  gentleman,  Mr.  Witter  Cum- 
mings,  built  a  ship  at  Samuel  Mogga- 


ridge's  yard,  shortly  before  the  war. 
At  the  commencement  of  the  troubles, 
much  of  our  merchant  marine  was  sent 
out  as  privateers.  Some  of  these  were 
most  successful,  full}r  repa}-ing  their 
owners  for  the  business  lost  by  the  war. 
So  many  prizes  within  a  few  days  were 
brought  in  to  Mr.  Joseph  Marquand, 
that  in  the  press  of  the  occasion,  that 
gentleman  hastily  exclaimed, "Oh  Lord  ! 
Thy  servant  has  enough ;  stay  thy 
hand."  His  prayer  was  answered, 
for  with  subsequent  losses,  and  the 
great  fire,  the  rich  merchant  died  a 
comparative!}'  poor  man. 

Many  of  the  vessels  cleared  from  the 
port  were  either  lost  at  sea  or  taken  by 
the  enemy.  The  fate  of  several  with 
that  of  their  crews  was  never  known. 
The  loss  of  one,  the  "Yankee  Hero," 
carrying  twenty  guns,  commanded  by 
Capt.  James  Tracy,  brought  mourning 
throughout  the  town,  as  out  of  one 
hundred  and  seventy  men,  fifty  were 
from  Newburyport  and  vicinity,  volun- 
teers from  some  of  the  first  families. 

Those  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into 
the  enemy's  hands,  suffered  great  hard- 
ship in  the  loathsome  English  prisons 
and  prison  ships.  The  crews  of  the 
brig  Dalton,  fitted  out  by  Stephen 
Hooper,  and  the  brigantine  Fanny, 
were  confined  between  two  and  three 
years,  in  the  Old  Mill  prison  in  Ply 
mouth. 

Many  of  the  privateers  were  of  small 
burthen,  and  but  poorly  armed ;  still 
this  hastily  improvised  navy  did  good' 
service,  making  many  notable  captures, 
and  carrying  havoc  to  the  enemy's 
fleet. 

The  following  is  the  commission  of 
the  commander  of  one  of  these  ves- 
sels : 


176 


REMINISCENCES 


COLONY   OF    MASSACHUSETTS    BAY. 

The  Major  of  the  Council  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay,  New  England. 
To  John  AViggles  worth,  Gentleman, 
Greeting. 

You  being  appointed  to  take  the 
James  Bowdoin  Winthrop,  Command 
Rich'd  Derby  jr.  of  the  armed  Sloop 
J.  Gushing  called  the  Swift,  of  the 

S.  Holton  burthen  of  thirty-five 

Jabez  Fisher  tons,  or  thereabouts, 
Moses  Gill  mounting  four  swivels 

B.  White  &  one  carriage  Gun, 

Benj.  Austin  and  navigated  by  ten 
Henry  Gardener  men,  fitted  out  at  the 
W.  Phillips  expense,  &  for  the 
Dan.  Davis  service  of  this  Colony. 

B.  Lincoln  By  virtue  of  the  pow- 

Dan.  Hopkins  er  vested  in  us,  we  do 
by  these  presents  (reposing  special 
trust  and  confidence  in  your  ability, 
courage,  and  good  conduct,)  commis- 
sion you  accordingly,  and  give  you  the 
said  John  Wiggles  worth,  full  power 
with  such  persons  as  shall  engage  to 
your  assistance,  by  force  of  arms  to 
attack,  seize,  and  take  the  Ships,  and 
other  Vessels  belonging  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Great  Britain,  or  any  of  them 
with  Tackel,  Apparel,  furniture  &  Lad- 
ing on  the  high  seas,  or  between  high 
water  and  low  water  mark,  and  to 
bring  the  same  to  some  convenient  Port 
in  this  colony,  in  order  that  the  courts, 
which  have  been,  or  shall  be  hereafter 
appointed  to  hear  &  determine  maritime 
causes,  may  proceed  in  due  form  to 
condemn  the  said  Captaines  if  they  be 
adjudged  lawful  Prize,  the  said  John 
Wigglesworth  having  given  bonds  to 
the  Treasurer  of  this  Colony  with  suffi- 
cient Sureties  that  nothing  be  done  by 
the  said  John  Wigglesworth  or  any  of 
his  Officers,  Marines,  or  Company  of 
the  said  Vessel  contrary  to,  or  incon- 
sistaut  with  the  usage  and  customs  of 
Nations,  and  the  instructions  that  are 
or  may  be  given  to  him  by  order  of  the 
Great  and  General  Court.  And  we 
will,  and  require  all  our  officers  to  give 
Succour  and  assistance  to  the  said  John 
Wigglesworth  in  the  premises.  This 
commission  to  continue  in  force  until 
further  orders. 


Given  under  our  hands  and  Seal  of 
the  said  colon}'  at  Watertown,  the  third 
day  of  June  in  the  year  of  our  LORD, 
one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-six. 

By  their  Honor's  Command. 

Of  the  Newbuiyport  vessels,  a  large 
number  were  sent  out  by  Messrs.  Na- 
thaniel and  John  Tracy.  Their  ships 
captured  one  hundred  and  twenty  sail, 
which,  with  their  cargoes,  brought  three 
million,  nine  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  Of  this  sum,  one  hundred  and 
sixty-seven  thousand,  two  hundred  and 
nineteen  dollars,  was  devoted  to  the 
army  and  other  public  exigencies.  Out 
of  one  hundred  and  ten  merchant  ves- 
sels, twenty-three  of  which  were  let- 
ters-of-marque,  only  thirteen,  and  of 
twenty-four  cruisers,  but  one,  remained 
at  the  close  of  the  war ;  all  the  others 
had  been  lost  or  captured.  The  ship 
Friends,  Capt.  Bowie,  of  London,  bound 
to  Boston  with  provisions  for  the  Brit- 
ish arm}',  having  mistaken  her  course, 
on  the  morning  of  the  loth  of  January 
was  discovered  off  the  "Bar."  Three 
whale  boats  manned  by  armed  men, 
commanded  by  Capt.  Offin  Boardman, 
immediately  put  out  to  her.  Captain 
Boardmau,  representing  himself  as  a 
pilot  from  Boston,  was  taken  on  board. 
Whilst  the  unsuspecting  English  cap- 
tain was  conversing  with  the  supposed 
pilot  on  the  quarter-deck,  the  crews 
from  the  three  boats,  seventeen  in  num- 
ber, quietly  ascended  the  gangway.  See- 
ing all  was  read}',  Capt.  Boardman  in 
stentorian  tones  ordered  the  English 
flag  to  be  struck.  Overcome  by  aston- 
ishment, neither  the  commander  nor 
crew  made  the  least  resistance,  and  the 
prize  was  brought  -in  triumph  to  the 
wharf. 

The  ship  Hibernia,  owned  by  Cap- 
tains Joseph  and  John  O'Brien,  and 


OF    A   NONAGENARIAN. 


177 


commanded  by  the  latter,  was  very 
successful.  On  her  first  cruise  she  cap- 
tured three  brigs,  a  ship,  and  two 
schooners,  in  less  than  four  weeks.  In 
this  cruise  she  met  with  a  sixteen-gun 
ship,  with  which  she  had  an  engage- 
ment that  lasted  nearly  two  hours,  but 
from  which  she  finally  escaped,  with 
the  loss  of  three  men  and  several 
wounded. 

Capt.  AVilliam  Russell,  in  the  Gen. 
Ward,  a  small  vessel,  mounting  one 
light  swivel,  with  about  a  dozen  men, 
each  armed  with  a  musket,  captured 
two  brigs  and  a  schooner.  Only  two 
men  could  be  spared  to  be  put  on  board 
the  schooner,  and  she  was  retaken,  but 
the  brigs  were  brought  safely  into 
town.  The  privateer  Hawk,  Captain 
.lark  Lee,  sent  in  an  English  brig  from 
Oporto,  loaded  with  wine,  and  a  large 
amount  of  specie.  Captain  Moses 
Brown,  in  the  privateer  Gen.  Arnold, 
took  several  rich  prizes,  but  was  at 
length  captured  by  the  British  brig  Ex- 
periment, of  fifty  guns.  Capt.  Brown 
was  for  some  time  confined  on  board  a 
prison  ship  at  Savannah,  Georgia,  but 
was  exchanged,  and  returned  to  New- 
buryport. 

On  May  19,  1780,  occurred  that  phe- 
nomenon, commonly  called  the  "Dark 
day."  There  had  been  extensive  fires 
in  the  woods,  and  for  several  da}rs  pre- 
vious the  air  had  been  thick,  and  the 
sky  murky.  On  the  memorable  nine- 
teenth, the  sun  rose  as  usual,  but  soon 
clouds  began  to  appear  and  the  whole 
sky  became  overcast ;  about  ten  o'clock 
there  was  a  slight  shower.  My  mother, 
then  thirteen  years  of  age,  had  gone  to 
the  garret  to  give  it  the  spring  cleaning. 
At  first  she  thought  a  thunder  shower 
was  rising,  but  the  increasing  dark- 
ness, and  the  singular  aspect  without, 


caused  her  to  leave  her  work,  and  in 
somewhat  of  a  panic  join  the  family 
below.  Dense,  black  clouds  overspread 
the  heavens  with  a  lighter  gleam  at  the 
horizon  ;  the  fowls  went  to  roost,  and 
the  birds  flew  into  the  trees.  The 
darkness  was  the  most  intense  between 
twelve  and  one  o'clock.  Candles  were 
lighted  for  the  dinner  table,  and  the 
meal  was  shorter  and  more  silent  than 
usual.  Both  grandsir  and  grandma'm 
Little  were  quiet,  firm  people ;  there 
was  no  undue  excitement  in  their 
household,  still  it  was  a  strange,  and 
somewhat  solemn  day.  Many  families  / 
were  in  a  perfect  frenzy.  ' '  The  Judg- 
ment Day  had  come,"  and  amid  tears 
and  piteous  lamentations  and  confes- 
sions,with  pra}'er  and  Bible  reading,  the 
frightened  creatures  tremblingly  passed 
the  hours,  momentarily  expecting  that 
the  dread  trump  would  sound.  The 
darkness  continued  into  the  night,  but 
the  following  morning  the  sun  rose 
bright  and  the  air  had  resumed  its 
usual  clearness. 

A  while  after,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
upper  parish  had  another  fright.  Mr. 
Enos  Bartlett,  at  the  Training  Field, 
had  a  load  of  bricks  to  draw  to  Byfield. 
The  weather  was  intensely  hot,  and  he 
started  soon  after  midnight.  The  cart 
wheels  were  dry,  needed  greasing; 
they  soon  began  to  creak.  The  noise 
increased,  until  it  blended  into  a  series 
of  unearthly  creaks  and  grinds .  Along 
the  route  every  one  was  aroused,  half 
unconscious,  and  unable  to  understand 
the  diabolical  sounds,  most  were  terri- 
bly frightened.  As  it  was  a  still  night, 
the  noise  reached  quite  a  distance,  and 
what  it  was  could  not  be  imagined. 
Some  thinking  the  last  day  had  come, 
fell  to  praying  and  reading  their  bibles. 
When  Mr.  Bartlett  reached  the  brook 
23 


178 


REMINISCENCES 


above  grandsir  Little's,  he  drove 
through  the  water,  thus  ending  the  noise 
and  commotion.  I  have  often  heard 
aunt  Hannah  describe  the  fright  of 
herself  and  the  other  children,  roused 
from  sound  sleep,  but  grandma'm  hav- 
ing ascertained  the  source  of  the  dis- 
cord, went  about  and  quieted  her  flock, 
and  thereafter  she  would  never  permit 
her  girls  to  laugh  at  their  more  credu- 
lous neighbors,  bidding  them,  "to  so 
live  that  at  any  moment  the  judg- 
ment might  find  them  ready  to  give  a 
good  account." 

The  depreciation  of  the  paper  mon- 
ey issued  by  congress  to  meet  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  war  for  a  time  caused 
general  disorder  in  monetary  affairs,  and 
in  some  instances  great  distress.  By 
1780,  the  continental  money  had  driv- 
en nearly  ah1  the  gold  and  silver  out  of 
circulation,  and  this  paper  currency' 
lessened  in  value  with  such  rapidity 
that  in  remote  places,  and  where  people 
were  unacquainted  with  the  money  mar- 
ket, fraud  could  be  easily  perpetrated. 
In  this  way  Gen.  John  Peabody's 
mother  was  cheated  out  of  a  large  part 
of  her  late  husband's  estate.  She  sold 
the  homestead  for  a  good  price,  and 
received  in  full  payment  a  whole  trunk 
full  of  money,  which  to  her  utter 
amazement  and  dismay  she  learned 
was  in  reality  not  worth  more  than  a 
third  of  its  nominal  value.  When  I 
was  a  child,  I  had  several  of  these 
continental  bills,  with  which  I  used  to 
play  shopping,  and  for  years  my  father 
kept  one  in  his  wallet  as  a  memento, 
laughingly  averring  that  so  long  as  this 
bill  was  in  his  pocket  he  was  not  de- 
void of  mone}-.  Aunt  Sarah  had  a 
calico  dress,  which  cost  a  one  hundred 
dollar  bill,  and  a  set  of  knitting  nee- 
dles for  which  she  paid  a  dollar.  Mrs. 


Moses  Colman,  then  Betty  Little,  paid 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  sutH- 
cient  black  silk  to  make  a  short  cloak, 
a  sort  of  mantilla,  then  fashionable  for 
summer  wear.  She  often  laughingly 
boasted  of  her  one  expensive  garment. 

In  1789,  Washington  on  his  eastern 
tour  visited  Newbmyport.  He  came 
Friday,  Dec.  1.  and  remained  until  the 
next  morning. 

In  nry  childhood  I  often  heard  descrip- 
tions of  the  grandeur  of  his  reception,  and 
on  a  stormy  Sunday  I  often  conned  the 
volumes  of  th6  "Essex  Journal  and  New 
Hampshire  Packet,"  of  December 
fourth,  which  contained  a  full  account 
of  the  proceedings.  This  was  the  first 
paper  printed  in  the  town,  a  Repub- 
lican sheet,  first  published  Dec.  4, 
1773,  by  Thomas  and  Tinges,  and  con- 
tinued by  Ezra  Lunt  and  John  Mycall. 
The  President  came  by  the  old  Boston 
road,  over  the  Parker  river  bridge,  and 
through  Oldtown.  At  the  upper  green 
he  left  his  carriage,  and  mounted  his 
horse.  He  had  been  met  at  Ipswich 
and  escorted  hither,  by  Marshall  Jack- 
son, the  High  Sheriff  of  the  county  of 
Essex,  the  Hon.  Tristram  Dalton. 
Maj.  General  Titcomb,  and  other  offi- 
cers and  gentlemen  from  Xewburyport 
and  the  surrounding  towns,  and  two 
companies  of  cavalry  from  Ipswich 
and  Andover.  As  the  cortege  moved 
on  to  High  street,  it  was  met  near 
South,  now  Bromfield.  by  a  long  pro- 
cession. The  Artillery  fired  a  Federal 
salute,  and  a  company  of  young  men 
sang  the  following  ode  : 

"He  comes.  He  comes!  The  Hero  comes! 
Sound,   Sound   your   trumpets,    Beat,   Beat 

your  Drums. 

From  port,  to  port,  let  cannons  roar, 
His  welcome  to  Xew  England's  shore. 

Welcome,  welcome,  welcome,  welcome, 
Welcome  to  New  England's  shore! 

Prepare !  Prepare !  your  Songs  prepare, 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


179 


Loud,  loudly  rend  the  echoing  air; 
From  Pole  to  Pole,  his  praise  resound, 
For  Virtue  is  with  glory  crowned. 
Virtue,  virtue,  virtue,  virtue, 
Virtue  is  with  glory  crowned." 

The  lines  in  the  first  verse,  which  call 
for  the  beating  of  drums  and  roaring 
of  cannon,  were  instantly  obeyed, 
after  the  pronunciation  of  each  word, 
and  to  the  vocal  was  joined  all  the 
instrumental  music  in  both  choruses, 
which  were  repeated.  Washington 
was  exceedingly  pleased  with  this  novel 
reception,  moved  even  to  tears.  Next 
theTresident,  preceded  b}'  the  several 
companies  of  Militia  and  Artiller}'  of 
the  town,  the  Musicians,  Selectmen, 
High  Sheriff  and  Marshall  Jackson, 
passed  the  Ministers,  Physicians,  Law- 
yers, Magistrates,  Town  officers,  Ma- 
rine Societ3*,  Tradesmen  and  Manu- 
facturers, Captains  of.. Vessels,  Sailors, 
and  School  Masters  with  their  Scholars, 
who  had  paraded,  and  opened  to  the 
right  and  left,  each  of  whom  as  the 
President  passed  closed  and  joined  in 
the  procession,  which  was  terminated 
by  four  hundred  and  twenty  scholars, 
all  with  quills  in  their  hands,  headed 
by  their  Preceptors.  Their  motto, 
"We  are  the  free  born  subjects  of  the 
I'nited  States."  This  procession  passed 
through  High  to  State  street  conducting 
Washington  to  the  residence  of  Nathan- 
iel Tracy,  esq.,  where  he  was  enter- 
tained in  princely  style.  On  his  arri- 
val he  was  greeted  with  the  follow- 
ing address,  written  by  John  Qnincy 
Adams,  then  a  student  at  law  in  the 
ollice  of  Theophilus  Parsons,  e.sq.,  who 
had  been  appointed  by  the  town  to 
prepare  it. 

To  the  President  of  the  United 
States  : — Sir :  When,  by  the  unani- 
mous suffrages  of  your  countrymen, 
3*011  were  called  to  preside  over  their 
public  councils,  the  citizens  of  the  town 


of  Newburyport  participated  in  the 
general  JO3*  that  arose  from  anticipa- 
ting an  administration  conducted  by 
the  man  to  whose  wisdoBBt  and  valor 
they  owed  their  liberties.  Pleasing  were 
their  reflections,  that  he  who,  by  the 
blessing  of  Heaven,  had  given  them 
their  independance,  would  again  relin- 
quish the  felicities  of  domestic  retire- 
ment, to  teach  'them  its  just  value. 
They  have  seen  3*ou,  victorious,  leave 
the  field,  followed  with  the  applause  of 
a  grateful  country  ;  and  they  now  see 
3*011,  entwining  the  Olive  with  the  Lau- 
rel, and,  in  peace,  giving  security  and 
happiness  to  a  people,  whom  in  war, 
3*011  covered  with  glory.  At  the  pres- 
ent moment,  they  indulge  themselves 
in  sentiments  of  joy,  resulting  from  a 
principle,  perhaps  less  elevated,  but 
exceedingly  dear  to  their  hearts,  from 
a  gratification  of  their  affections,  in  be- 
holding personall--  among  them,  the 
Friend,  the  Benefactor,  and  the  Father 
of  their  Country. 

They  cannot  hope,  Sir,  to  exhibit 
any  pecular  marks  of  attachment  to 
3*our  person ;  for,  could  they  express 
their  feelings  of  the  most  ardent  and 
sincere  gratitude,  they  would  only  re- 
peat the  sentiments,  which  are  deeply* 
impressed  upon  the  hearts  of  all  their 
fellow  citizens  ;  but,  in  justice  to  them- 
selves, they  beg  leave  to  assure  3*ou, 
that  in  no  part  of  the  United  States 
are  those  sentiments  of  gratitude  and 
affection  more  cordial  and  animated 
than  in  the  town,  which,  at  this  time,' 
is  honored  with  3*our  presence. 

Long,  sir,  may  yon  continue  the  or- 
nament and  support  of  these  States, 
and  may  the  period  be  late,  when  3rou 
shall  be  called  to  receive  a  reward,  ad- 
equate to  3*our  virtue,  which  it  is  not 
in  the  power  of  this  country  to  bestow. 

The  President  replied  as  follows  : 
"To  the  citizens  of  the  town  of  New- 
buiyport : — 

Gentlemen  :  The  demonstrations  of 
respect  and  affection  which  3*011  are 
pleased  to  pa3*  to  an  individual  whose 
highest  pretension  is  to  rank  as  your 
fellow-citizen,  are  of  a  nature  too  dis- 


180. 


REMINISCENCES 


tinguished  not  to  claim  the  warmest  re- 
turn that  gratitude  can  make. 

My  endeavors  to  be  iiseful  to  my 
country  have  been  no  more  than  the 
result  of  conscious  duty.  Regards  like 
yours,  would  reward  services  of  the 
highest  estimation  and  sacrifice ;  yet, 
it  is  due  to  my  feelings,  that  I  should 
tell  you  those  regards  are  received  with 
esteem,  and  replied  to  with  sincerity. 

In  visiting  the  town  of  Newburyport, 
I  have  obeyed  a  favorite  inclination, 
and  I  am  much  gratified  bj-  the  indul- 
gence. In  expressing  a  sincere  wish 
for  its  prosperity,  and  the  happiness 
of  its  inhabitants,  I  do  justice  to  my 
own  sentiments  and  their  merit." 

A  feu  de  joie  was  fired  by  the  mili- 
tia companies,  and  in  the  evening  there 
was  a  display  of  fireworks.  Saturday 
morning  the  President  started  for  Ports- 
mouth, under  the  escort  that  conducted 
him  into  town,  with  the  addition  of  a 
large  number  of  military  and  other  gen- 
tlemen of  Newburyport,  who  accompa- 
nied him  to  the  New  Hampshire  line, 
where  he  was  met  by  Gen.  Sullivan,  Gov- 
ernor of  the  State,  with  four  companies 
of  light-horse,  who  conducted  him  to 
Portsmouth.  This  was  previous  to  the 
erection  of  the  Essex  Merrimac  bridge, 
and  Washington  crossed  the  river  at 
the  Amesbury  ferry.  The  Marine  so- 
%ciet}'  fitted  and  decorated  a  barge  for 
that  purpose,  which  was  commanded 
by  one  their  members,  the  bargemen 
being  dressed  in  white.  As  the  boat 
came  midway  the  stream,  a  ship  from 
Teneriffe,  gaily  adorned  with  flags  and 
commanded  by  Captain  Joseph  A.  de 
Murrietta,  fired  the  salute  of  his  nation, 
twenty-one  guns.  In  Amesbury  and 
Salisbury  the  militia  were  paraded,  and 
saluted  the  President  as  he  passed. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  French  Revolution,  and  the  gen- 
eral confusion  which  reigned  in  Europe 
after  the  decapitation  of  Louis  XVI, 
brought  a  large  carrying  trade  to  the 
seaports  of  the  Union.  American  ship- 
ping was  protected  in  the  Texal,  and 
the  Empress  Catherine  granted  us  the 
freedom  of  the  Baltic.  A  brisk  trade 
was  opened  with  the  English,  French, 
Spanish  and  Dutch  possessions. 
Though  Newbur3?port  prospered  from 
her  foreign  trade  for  a  number  of  years, 
yet  man}-  heavy  losses  occurred,  and 
much  annoyance  was  experienced  from 
the  divers  decrees  of  the  belligerent 
powers.  Under  the  pretext  of  recov- 
ering English  deserters,  Great  Britain 
claimed  the  right  of  search.  In  the 
exercise  of  this  disputed  right,  frequent 
seizures  were  made  of  what  were  called 
enemy's  goods  —  goods  shipped  from 
some  nation  with  whom  she  was  at 
war.  I'nder  such  pretexts,  vessel  and 
cargo  were  confiscated,  or  subjected  to 
such  delay  and  loss  that  the  whole 
profits  of  the  voyage  were  absorbed. 
In  addition  to  the  English  insults 
and  injuries,  the  French,  aggrieved 
at  the  refusal  of  the  United  States  to 
form  an  alliance;  with  them,  at  the  same 
time  affirming  that  we  permitted  British 
to  take  French  goods  out  of  our  ships, 
adopted  retaliatory  measures,  and 
French  privateers  were  fitted  out  to 
prey  on  our  merchantmen.  In  1793, 
the  allied  powers  decreed  that  no  ex- 
portation of  provisions  to  France  should 
be  allowed,  and  they  engaged  to  unite 
to  prevent  neutral  nations  from  supply- 
ing her  directly  or  indirectly.  The 
Empress  Catherine  also  requested  the 
king  of  Sweden  not  to  allow  his  ships 
of  war  to  convey  merchantmen  destined 


OF   A 


181 


for  France.  Thus  our  commerce  met 
with  a  continuation  of  entanglements. 

For  several  years  war  had  been 
waged  between  Portugal  and  Algiers. 
Hitherto,  b}*  a  powerful  fleet,  Portugal 
had  confined  the  Algerine  cruisers  to 
the  Mediterranean,  but  in  September, 
1793,  a  truce  was  concluded  between 
the  De}T  of  Algiers  and  the  King  of 
Portugal.  Thus  the  whole  Algerine 
fleet  was  let  loose  to  prey  upon  the 
commerce  of  the  Atlantic.  Many 
American  vessels  were  captured,  the 
crews  robbed  and  reduced  to  slavery, 
with  no  hope  of  release  unless  ran- 
somed. 

In  the  summer  of  1793,  the  brig 
Polly,  commanded  by  Capt.  Samuel 
Baylej',  a  son  of  Mr.  Samuel  Bayley, 
one  of  the  wealthiest  merchants  of 
Newburyport,  was  taken  by  an  Alger- 
ine cruiser,  while  on  a  voyage  from 
Baltimore  to  Cadiz.,  Several  of  the 
crew  also  belonged  in  the  town  and  vi- 
cinity, and  the  news  of  their  capture 
created  a  great  sensation.  Though  I 
was  then  only  six  years  old,  I  vividly 
remember  the  heart-rending  tales  which 
my  father,  on  his  return  from  town, 
market  days,  used  to  relate,  as  from 
time  to  time  tidings  of  the  suffering  cap- 
1  i VPS  reached  their  friends.  A  large  sum 
was  raised  for  their  ransom.  The  fam- 
ilies and  friends  of  the  prisoners  con- 
tributed generously,  and  appeal  was 
made  in  their  behalf  from  the  pulpits 
of  the  various  societies,  and  a  contri- 
bution taken,  the  Sunday  preceding 
the  Thanksgiving  after  their  capture. 

The  Dey  of  Algiers,  thinking  that 
our  government,  in  its  anxiety  for  the 
release  of  the  prisoners,  would  acqui- 
esce in  any  demand,  set  such  an  exor- 
bitant price  as  their  ransom  that  Con- 
gress, not  wishing  to  encourage  his 


piracy,  demurred  as  to  its  payment ; 
but  in  the  December  following  their  en- 
slavement, this  crew,  with  those  of  oth- 
er American  vessels,  were  furnished, 
through  Mr.  Skjolderbrand,  the  Swed- 
ish consul,  with  money^  and  comforta- 
ble clothing:  each  captain  and  super- 
cargo receiving  eight  Spanish  dollars 
per  month,  the  mates  six,  and  the  sail- 
ors three  each. 

Meantime  negotiations  for  the  release 
of  our  countiymen  were  continued 
through  Daniel  Humphreys,  esq.,  and 
Joseph  Donaldson ,  jr . ,  esq.  At  length, 
in  July,  1796,  through  the  zealous  ef- 
forts of  these  gentlemen,  and  of  Joel 
Barlow,  esq.,  consul-general  of  the 
United  States  to  Algiers,  negotiations 
were  closed  and  the  prisoners  set  at 
liberty,  but  young  Capt.  Ba^'ley  was 
not  permitted  to  return  to  his  native 
shores.  On  the  second  da}'  of  his 
homeward  voyage  he  was  attacked  with 
the  plague,  from  which  he  died,  after 
an  illness  of  two  days. 

One  of  the  mariners  of  the  brig  Polly 
was  John  Foss,  a  native  of  By  field. 
After  his  return  he  published  an  ac- 
count of  his  captivity,  which  was  ex- 
ceedingly interesting.  At  that  time  I 
had  never  seen  a  geography — "Morse, 
&  Parish's"  was  a  later  production  — 
and  Mr.  Foss's  delineation  of  foreign 

O 

places,  the  Mediterranean  and  Algiers, 
was  my  introduction  to  a  knowledge  of 
that  part  of  the  world.  His  descrip- 
tions of  the  bagnio  where  the  men  were 
confined,  and  the  cruelty  shown  to  the 
prisoners,  who  were  treated  as  slaves 
and  compelled  to  perform  severe  tasks 
while  heavily  ironed,  and  subjected  to 
the  bastinado  and  other  barbarities  for 
the  slightest  offence,  were  touchingly 
graphic.  After  three  years'  servitude, 
on  the  llth  of  July,  the  prisoners  were 


182 


REMENISCEXCE  S 


called  from  the  bagnio  and  conducted 
to  the  Dey  to  receive  their  passports, 
and  at  9  a.  m.  the}'  embarked  on  a 
ship  belonging  to  a  Jew,  Mr.  Baccri. 
On  the  12th,  received  provisions  and 
got  ready  for  sea ;  on  the  13th,  stood 
to  sea.  On  board  were  forty-eight  Ne- 
apolitans that  had  been  ransomed  :  that 
night  one  of  these  was  taken  sick  with 
the  plague ;  this  man  was  taken  on 
shore  by  the  harbor  master.  On  the 
14th,  another  Neapolitan  was  taken 
sick  ;  he  died  on  the  16th.  On  the  15th, 
Capt.  Bayley  was  taken  ill.  and  died  on 
the  17th.  Finding  the  plague  raging 
to  such  a  degree,  the  ship  put  into 
Marseilles.  On  the  8th  of  October, 
Mr.  Foss  shipped  as  first  mate  on 
board  the  ship  Fortune  of  Philadelphia, 
commanded  by  Capt.  Michael  Smith. 
On  the  17th,  sailed  from  Marseilles, 
bound  to  Bona  in  Algiers,  where  the 
vessel  arrived  on  the  7th  of  December. 
On  the  loth  of  January,  1799,  again 
sailed  for  Marseilles  ;  on  the  24th,  was 
boarded  by  his  Britannic  Majesty's  ship 
Pallas,  treated  politely,  and  permitted 
to  proceed.  February  5th,  about  nine 
leagues  from  Marseilles,  the  ship  was 
captured  by  his  Britannic  Majesty's 
ships  Inconstant  and  Blanche,  and  or- 
dered to  Porto  Ferrajo  in  the  island  of 
Elba,  where  they  arrived  on  the  15th, 
and  were  sent  on  shore  on  the  16th, 
and  not  allowed  to  stay  on  board  the 
frigate  unless  the}'  would  enter  his 
Britannic  Majesty's  service.  None  were 
willing  to  do  so.  One  man  was  im- 
pressed on  board  the  Inconstant,  and 
three  others  entered  onboard  the  Union, 
a  British  transport ;  the  rest  procured  a 
passage  for  Leghorn,  but  having  been 
robbed  of  their  money  and  part  of 
their  clothes,  thej'  found  it  difficult  to 
subsist  until  the  vessel  was  ready  to 


sail.  They  sailed  for  Leghorn  on  the 
23d.  and  arrived  the  next  day,  were: 
kept  in  quarantine  until  the  5th  of 
March,  on  which  day  C'apt.  Smith  ar- 
rived from  Porto  Ferrajo,  and  sailed 
for  Marseilles  the  10th,  with  all  the 
crew  but  Mr.  Foss  and  Moses  Brown 
of  Newburyport,  who  were  left  sick  in 
the  hospital.  On  the  20th,  Mr.  Foss 
sailed  from  Leghorn  in  an  open  boat 
for  Piombino  in  Naples.  On  his  arriv- 
al he  met  Mr.  Donaldson,  the  American 
consul,  who  had  been  instrumental  in 
his  deliverance  from  Algiers.  In  his 
company  he  sailed  for  Porto  Ferrajo, 
arriving  the  same  evening.  On  the 
24th,  they  sailed  for  Leghorn,  arriving 
on  the  26th. 

On  the  second  of  April,  Mr.  Foss 
embarked  as  passenger  on  board  the 
Mandonna  del  Rosario  e  san  Vincenzo 
Su-raro,  of  Ragusa,  bound  to  Philadel- 
phia ;  sailed  on  the  4th,  and  on  the  llth, 
was  captured  by  a  Spanish  privateer 
and  carried  into  Barcelona  ;  was  cleared 
on  the  12th,  and  again  sailed,  but  on 
the  20th,  was  again  captured  by  a  French 
privateer,  and  carried  into  Almeria. 
treated  politely,  and  sailed  on  the  22d. 
Oni:he  29th.  the  wind  having  been  con- 
trary for  several  days,  they  ran  into 
Malaya,  where  they  remained  until  the 
21st  of  May.  Again  sailed  on  the  22d. 
On  the  same  day  was  boarded  by  his 
Britannic  Majesty's  ship  Petteral.  treat- 
ed well,  and  permitted  to  proceed.  On 
the  23d,  at  6  p.  m.  was  boarded  by  two 
Spanish  privateers  and  carried  into 
Ceuta.  Mr.  Foss  having  struck  one 
of  the  privateer's  men  with  a  sword, 
and  wounded  him  on  the  arm.  was  put 
into  a  dungeon,  ironed  hands  and  feet, 
where  he  was  kept  about  an  hour  and 
a  half.  That  same  evening  the  vessel 
sailed  for  Philadelphia.  On  the  28th. 


OF    A   NONAOEN ARIAK. 


183 


was  boarded  by  another  Spanish  pri- 
vateer, and  robbed  ol'  a  quantity  of 
provisions,  and  the  greater  part  of  .  the 
clothes  of  the  crew  and  passengers. 
On  the  first  of  July  was  boarded  by 
his  Britannic  Majesty's  ship  Wool-- 
\vieh,  were  treated  politely,  and  per- 
mitted to  proceed.  Being  short  of 
provisions,  endeavors  were  made  to 
procure  a  supply  from  the  Woolwich, 
but  she  being  also  short  none  could  be 
obtained.  On  the  24th,  spoke  the  brig 
.Jeiferson  from  St.  Croix,  bound  to 
Philadelphia,  from  whom  provisions 
were  obtained  which  were  most  thank- 
fully received,  as  for  nearly  forty  days 
they  had  subsisted  on  one  biscuit  per 
day,  with  oil  and  wine.  On  the  25th, 
Mr.  Foss  arrived  in  Philadelphia, 
where  he  was  detained  by  indisposition 
until  the  llth  of  August.  He  then 
took  passage  in  the  schooner  Ja}',  be- 
longing to  Edgartown,  bound  to  Bos- 
ton, David  Smith  commander.  He 
arrived  in  Boston  on  the  17th.  On  the 
23,  he  reached  Newbmryport,  and  after 
such  a  terrible  and  varied  experience, 
was  restored  to  his  family  at  Byfield. 

I  have  made  this  extract  from  Mr. 
Foss'  journal,  to  show  the  peril  wind 
annoyance  to  which  at  that  period  our 
marine  were  subjected. 

Out  of  the  nine  persons  who  left 
Baltimore  on  the  brig  Polly,  only  four 
returned  besides  Mr.  Foss.  These  were 
Michael  Smith,  the  lirst  mate,  Benja- 
min Edwards,  the  second  mate,  and 
Moses  Brown,  mariner.  The  others 
all  died  of  the  plague.  Capt.  Samuel 
E.  Baykry,  whose  ransom  had  been 
forwarded  by  his  father,  was  a  young 
man  of  much  promise,  universally  be- 
loved and  respected,  and  his  sad  fate 
was  greatly  deplored.  Subjoined  are 
some  lines  written  by  Capt.  Bayley 


while  a  prisoner  in  Algiers.  They  were 
addressed  to  a  young  lady  to  whom  he 
was  betrothed : 

"  To  you,  my  friend,  these  lines  I  send, 

Though  distant  far  from  me; 
Though  we're  apart,  my  aching  lieart 
Is  ever  .still  with  thee. 

To  1ft  thee  know  my  grief  and  woe 

Is  far  beyond  my  ait; 
1  can't  express  the  .sore  distress 

That  racks  my  pained  lieart. 

I  mourn  and  weep  while  others  sleep, 

My  nights  are  turned  to  day : 
While  time  runs  on,  and  hope  forlorn, 

And  rest  goes  far  away. 

I  think  of  thee  where'er  I  be, 

Of  thy  unhappy  state: 
My  thoughts  and  care  are  always  there — 

On  thee  I  contemplate. 

Though  hard  my  fate  and  wretched  state, 

I  pray  for  a  relief; 
That  God  would  bless  me  in  distress 

And  mitigate  my  grief. 

Without  neglect  I  shall  respect 

My  parents  till  I  die; 
Their  tender  care  for  my  welfare 

Lives  in  my  memory. 

I  trust  in  God  who  holds  the  rod 

And  doth  chastise  in  love; 
He  can  relieve  the  captive  slave, 

And  hear  him  from  above." 

At  this  time  imposters  were  often 
met,  tramping  from  place  to  place, 
begging  money,  under  the  pretext  of 
raising  the  ransom  of  a  son  or  brother 
held  in  captivity  at  Algiers.  For  years 
such  persons  were  an  annoyance  eveiy-, 
where,  and  often  a  terror  to  solitary 
people  in  lone  country  houses. 


CHAFIER  XXXVI. 

The  conflicts  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion reached  the  French  West  Indian 
colonies  with  even  more  intense  cruel- 
ties than  in  the  mother  country.  One 
day  one  part}'  was  in  power,  the  next 


184 


REMINISCENCES 


the  opposite.  On  all  sides  persons  in 
authority  were  imprisoned  and  guillo- 
tined, their  property  confiscated,  and 
their  children  outlawed.  Mam*  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  influential  citizens 
became  fugitives.  As  Newburyport 
had  a  large  West  Indian  commerce, 
many  of  these  exiles  came  thither.  In 
Guadaloupe  the  blood-thirsty  mob 
poured  out  upon  the'  noble  families  the 
brutal  passion  of  wild  beasts.  The 
atrocities  committed  almost  surpass  be- 
lief. Many  met  the  most  horrible 
deaths ;  a  few  were  enabled  to  escape 
to  neighboring  islands  in  boats  ;  and 
about  twenty  succeeded  in  getting  on 
board  of  a  brig  belonging  in  Newbuiy- 
port,  which  lay  off  the  island,  which  ar- 
rived at  that  port  in  March,  1792. 
Among  these  exiles  was  St.  Sauveur  de 
Poyen.  His  eldest  and  youngest  sons, 
Robert  and  St.  Sauveur,  were  killed  by 
the  brutal  mob  of  republicans  ;  but  the 
father  and  three  sons,  Joseph  Roch- 
mont,  Montrape,  Dupiton,  and  two 
daughters,  escaped,  and  succeeded,  af- 
ter great  suffering,  in  getting  on  board 
the  Newburyport  brig. 

St.  Sauveur  de  Poyen  was  a  direct 
descendant  from  the  Marquis  Jean  de 
Poyen,  who  emigrated  to  the  island  of 
Guadaloupe  in  1658.  He  inherited  all 
the  instincts  and  pride  of  the  aristoc- 
racy of  France,  the  class  to  which  he 
belonged,  and  when  the  troublous  times 
of  the  French  Revolution  came,  they 
found  him  a  staunch  royalist  and  an  ar- 
dent defender  of  King  Louis  XVI. 
The  loss  of  home,  change  of  climate, 
grief  and  anxiety,  was  too  much  for 
the  exile  ;  he  passed  away  only  a  few 
months  before  Louis  was  beheaded, 
the  king  to  whose  cause  he  was  so 
strongly  attached,  for  which  he  sacri- 
ficed a  home  of  luxury  and  ease. 


"  Habitation  Piton,"  five  miles  from 
the  romantic  village  of  St.  Rose,  is  the 
point  at  which  the  French  discovered 
the  island.  The  plantation  borders  on 
the  sea.  A  romantic  ride  by  the  shore 
brings  the  ' '  Habitation  "  to  view  on  a 
small  plateau,  a  little  distance  up  the 
side  of  the  mountain.  Turning  from 
the  shore  the  road  runs  direct  to  the 
"Habitation,"  through  a  valley  filled 
with  sugar-cane.  A  broad  avenue  ter- 
minates the  valley  road,  with  rows  of 
lofty  palms  on  either  side  ;  a  winding 
way  leads  to  the  dwelling.  This 
point  presents  a  panorama  of  great 
beauty.  The  valley,  widening  as  it  re- 
cedes, is  filled  with  luxuriant  cane, 
which  also  covers  the  mountains  far  up 
their  sides.  About  a  mile  from  the 
shore,  a  circular  rock  called  "English- 
man's head,"  rises  from  the  water  to 
the  height  of  one  hundred  feet,  and  is 
the  only  object  that  breaks  the  surface 
of  the  broad  ocean  to  the  horizon  ;  in 
the  distance  two  shadowy  forms  appear, 
the  islands  of  Montserrat  and  Antigua, 
so  indistinct  and  misty  as  not  to  break 
the  horizon  line. 

In  a  low,  narrow  valley  in  the  old 
gra^ej-ard  on  burying  hill,  in  Newbury- 
port, is  a  stone  bearing  this  inscription  : 

SACKED    TO   THE   MEMORY   OF 

MR.    POYEN    DE   ST.    SAUVEUR, 

WHO  FOR  A   LONG  TIME   WAS 

AN    INHABITANT    &   A    REPUTABLE 

•PLANTER   ON   THE   ISLAND 

OF    GUADULOUPE. 

DIED   OCTOBER    14TII,    1792, 

AGED  52  TEAKS. 

After  a  few  }*ears,  when  affairs  had 
become  settled,  several  of  the  surviv- 
ing exiles  returned  to  their  homes. 
Amongst  those  that  remained  were  Jo- 
seph Rochemont  de  Poyen,  de  St.  Sau- 
veur, (St.  Sauveur  indicated  the  branch 
of  the  family  to  which  he  belonged), 


OF   A 


185 


and  a  sister  who  died  in  Baltimore. 
This  land  of  refuge  had  many  attrac- 
tions for  young  Poyen.  He  never 
wearied  of  wandering  up  and  down 
the  shores  of  the  beautiful  Merpmac. 
Some  twelve  years  were  spent  in  care- 
less, easy  living,  dividing  his  time  be-, 
tween  the  town,  and  the  romantic  villa- 
ges along  the  river's  bank.  At  one  of 
these,  Rock's  Bridge,  (East  Haverhill) , 
he  at  length  passed  most  of  his  time. 
It  is  a  singularly  picturesque  spot,  and 
its  natural  beauties  attracted  the  artistic 
eye  of  the  sensitive  3'oung  Frenchman. 
Here  also  he  met  the  guiding  star  of 
his  life,  Sally  Elliot,  a  handsome,  bril- 
liant girl,  a  daughter  of  one  of  the 
oldest  families  of  the  place,  and  with 
the  impetuous  character  of  his  race,  he 
carried  off  and  married  his  willing 
bride,  in  spite  of  the  protest  of  her 
parents.  In  this  village  they  settled, 
and  children  were  born  to  them.  Years 
passed,  and  grandchildren  also  came, 
and  grew  up  to  love  the  dear  old  man, 
whose  delight  it  was  to  play  and  dance 
with  them  ;  he  grew  old  in  years  but 
not  in  elasticity  of  spirit,  and  his  life 
went  out  in  glorious 'fullness,  at  a  ripe 
old  age.  I  well  remember  Sally  EMiot ; 
she  made  Rochemont  de  Po3~en  a  most 
excellent  wife  ;  and  I  vividly  recall  the 
genial  Frenchman  ;  a  lithe,  active  man, 
a  great  fancier  of  horse  flesh,  alwa}Ts 
ready  for  a  trade  ;  he  and  my  grandsir 
Little  frequently  had  dealings  together. 
His  fiddle  Avas  also  ever  at  the  service 
of  the  young  folks.  The  beaux  and 
belles  of  the  main  road  were  often  in- 
debted to  Mr.  Poyen  for  the  music  at  a 
social  dance.  Though  irascible  and 
impatient,  he  was  the  soul  of  wit  and 
good  humor,  happy  in  making  all 
around  him  happy. 


The  Poyen  arms  are  : 


GULES,   A  CHIEF  AZURE,  PEACOCK  ON  TERRACE  VERT. 
THREE   MULLETS  PROPER       CREST — MARQUIS' 
CROWN,  SUPPORTED  BY  TWO  SAVAGES, 
DEXTER  CLUB  AT  GROUND,   SINIS- 
TER CLUB    AT    SHOULDER. 

With  the  family  of  St.  Sauveur  de 
Poyen  came  his  nephew  the  Count  Fran- 
cis de  Vipart,  the  son  of  a  Count  of  the 
same  name,  and  a  grandson  of  the  Mar- 
quis de  Vipart.  This  young  man  re- 
mained in  America,  accompanying  his 
cousin  Joseph  Rochemont  de  Poyen  in 
his  wanderings  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Merrimac,  and  with  him  located  at  the 
"Rocks."  There  he  married  another 
of  the  village  belles  and  beauties,  Mary 
Ingalls.  The  Ingalls  family  through 
the  Bradstreets,  were  connections  of 
my  grandmother  Little.  Mary  Ingalls 
possessed  uncommon  personal  and  "men- 
tal attractions.  Of  medium  height,  hair 
in  long  golden  curls,  violet  eyes,  fair 
complexion  and  rosy  cheeks,  "none 
knew  her  but  to  love  her."  In  a  house 
nestled  between  the  hills,  since  for 
many  years  owned  and  occupied  by  the 
late  Dr.  Kennison,  the  French  lord 
wooed  and  won  the  Puritan  maid. 
Their  moonlight  sails,  and  saunterings 
upon  the  pleasant  Newbury  shore,  with 
the  sweet  strains  of  the  Count's  violin, 
are  still  remembered  by  a  few  aged  in- 
habitants. 

The  wedding  created  a  great  sensa- 
tion in  the  quiet  village.  The  bride 
24 


186 


REMINISCENCES 


looked  supremely  lovely  in  a  dress  of 
pink  satin,  with  an  over  dress  of  white 
lace,  and  white  satin  slippers. 

Though  it  was  the  delight  of  the 
Count  to  lavish  every  luxury  upon  his 
young  wife1^  she  continued  the  same  un- 
pretending, modest  person  as  before 
marriage.  A  few  short  weeks  of  bliss, 
and  a  shade  fell  over  the  sunlight  of  the 
new  life  of  the  wedded  pair.  Naturally 
delicate,  continuous  care  and  attention 
to  a  sick  mother,  had  planted  the  germs 
of  New  England's  scourge,  consump- 
tion, by  which  the  Countess  de  Vipart 
rapidly  declined.  In  this  illness  she  is 
described  as  presenting  an  almost 
seraphic  loveliness.  Reclining  in  an 
eas}-  chair,  draped  in  white,  her  appear- 
ance was  that  of  a  being  of  a  higher 
world  than  earth. 

Not  a  twelvemonth  from  the  joyous 
bridal  eve,  the  village  bell  pealed  the 
funeral  knell,  and  the  remains  of  the 
lovely  Mary  Ingalls,  Countess  de  Vi- 
part, were  deposited  under  the  turf  of 
the  quiet  rural  burial  place  on  the  hill 
side,  "beneath  the  locust  bloom."  A 
low,  slate  stone,  the  style  of  the  period, 
marks  her  grave,  it  bears  this  inscrip- 
tion ? 

MARY, 

WIFE  OF  FRANCIS  VIPART, 

OF  GUADALOUPE. 
DIED  JANL'AUY  5,  1807, 

AGED  21    YEARS. 

This  incident  of  the  union  of  the  ex- 
iled nobleman  and  the  New  England 
maiden,  Whittier  has  woven  into  one  of 
his  most  pleasing  ballads,  and  in  his 
''Countess"  it  will  be  perpetuated  to 
future  generations — 

''The  Gascon  lord,  the  village  maid, 
In  death  still  clasp  their  hands; 
The  love  that  levels  rank  and  grade, 
Unite  their  severed  hand.-;.'"' 

Overwhelmed  with  grief,  the  stricken 
husband  soon  after  his  wife's  death,  re- 


turned to  his  West  Indian  home.  Sev- 
eral articles  that  had  belonged  to  the 
Count  and  his  bride,  are  still  cherished 
as  sacred  mementoes,  b}*  relatives  and 
friends,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  home  of 
their  brief  wedded  life. 

Time  having  in  a  measure  healed  the 
heart  wound,  Count  de  Vipart  again 
married  in  Guadaloupe,  where  he  died 
and  was  buried.  His  descendants  still 
reside  at  their  homes  on  the  island, 
ranking  high  in  the  order  of  nobility. 

The  retired  valley  on  the  old  burying 
hill,  Newburyport.  contains  the  re- 
mains of  several  French  exiles,  who 
died  during  the  years  from  1792  to 
1812.  Doubtless  the  whole  number 
were  Catholics,  and  as  at  that  period 
no  ground  had  been  consecrated  in  the 
Puritan  town,  this  quiet  spot  was  chos- 
en in  a  Protestant  burial  ground,  t» 
la}-  their  bodies  apart  from  others, 
when  their  spirits  had  departed  —  a 
spot  doubly  consecrated  by  the  tears 
and  prayers  of  surviving  relatives  and 
friends.  Most  of  these  graves  were 
marked  by  head  stones  ;  some  of  these 
have  been  broken ;  those  that  remain 
are  inscribed  as  follows  : 

CI     GIT 

MAPIE  FELICITTE  NADAU, 

NEE    A   LA    BASS  OL'PE 

DECEDE   LE    19TII    FEVK'KH,    181 '3, 

AGEE    DE   25   ANS,    ET   G   JIOIS. 
ESPOCSEDE   MU.    PIF.i:  '  M)K, 

HAUITAXT    AU    QUAKTIEH    J)J. 
DE   LA   DITTE    ILE. 

JOHN  UAI'TISTE  DATOUR,    i 

FOUMEKLY    OK   OKA  N  i'EIMJE    !N    Till,    1-LAND 

OK    Gl.  A! 

DIED   APRIL  24.    1797, 
AGED   74. 

II EKE    LIES 
A   G»OD   SON, 

JAQUE  MESTUK, 

WHO     DIED 

AUG'ST  2ND,  1793, 

AGED   21    YEA  US. 


OP   A 


187 


HERE   LIES 
A    GOOD    SOX, 

LOUIS  EN  MESTRE, 

WHO     DIED 

DEC'R  9Tir,  1792, 

AGED   17   TEAKS. 

M.  MEDERIC  DUMAS, 

NATIF   DE   BORDEAUX, 
HABITANT    DU   FORT    DAUPHIN, 

ISI.E   ST.    DOMINIQUE, 
DECEDE   A  NEWI3URYPORT, 

I,E  9rn  OF  MAK.,  1792, 

AGE   DE  49  ANS. 

In  1795,  Nicholas  Cools  Godefroy, 
from  Castrie  in  the  island  of  St.  Lucia, 
in  the  West  Indies,  came  to  Newburj-- 
port  in  a  vesse.1  commanded  by  Capt. 
John  Coombs.  He  was  accompanied 
by  his  youngest  son,  'Moise  Jacques 
Dupree  Cooles  Godefroy,  who  was  born 
in  Bordeaux,  France,  in  1785,  and 
about  twenty  negro  slaves,  house  ser- 
^ants,  and  families  from  his  plantation. 
The  oldest  son,  Jacques  Mane  Cools 
Godefroy,  had  previously  come  to  Bal- 
timore. This  family  of  exiles  com- 
menced housekeeping  in  a  house  near 
the  head  of  Federal  street ;  but,  aged 
and  infirm,  torn  from  home  and  friends, 
the  exhausted  fugitive  turned  his  face 
to  the  wall  and  died,  surviving  scarcely 
a  week  from  the  day  of  his  landing. 
A  will  is  on  record  in  Salem,  which  was 
proved  Dec.  28,  1795,  by  which  the 
plantation  in  the  island  of  St.  Lucia 
was  bequeathed  to  the  eldest  son,  and 
a  large  sum  of  money  to  the  youngest, 
to  whom  Capt.  Coombs  was  appointed 
guardian,  and  in  whose  family  he  found 
a  home.  The  negroes,  now  free,  went 
to  service  in  Oldtown,  where  the  jovial 
faces,  woolly  heads  and  glistening 
ivory  of  the  little  darkies,  and  their 
frolicsome  pranks,  attracted  much  no- 
tice. They  and  their  parents  are  still 
remembered  by  some  aged  persons. 
Owing  to  a  wrong  translation  of  the 


will  of  his  father  which  was  written  in 
French,  the  lad,  Moise  Cooles  Godefroy, 
was  defrauded  of  a  portion  of  his  in- 
heritance ;  the  household  effects  were 
sold — plate  engraved  with  the  family 
arms,  clothing  and  linen.  Nothing  of 
this  personal  property  has  descended  in 
the  family,  with  the  exception  of  one 
solitary  counterpne,  made  from  a 
dress  of  Madam  Nicholas  Cooles  God- 
efroy, who  had  died  some  years  previ- 
ous to  her  husband's  exile.  In  1810 
Jacques  Mane  Cooles  Godefroy,  visited 
his  brother  previous  to  his  return  to 
the  plantation  in  St.  Lucia.  He  pre- 
sented Moise  with  nearly  a  thousand 
dollars  to  stock  his  store  on  State 
street,  and  made  a  will  in  his  favor, 
which  was  deposited  with  Bishop 
Chevereux  in  Boston,  who  was  ap- 
pointed the  executor.  He  died  a 
few  years  after,  at  his  home  in  St. 
Lucia.  A  short  time  after,  to  his 
surprise,  Moise  Cooles  Godefroy  re- 
ceived a  notification  from  Bishop  Chev- 
eraux,  purporting  that  a  priest  and  a 
lawyer  had  arrived  in  Boston,  bringing 
with  them  a  second  and  later  will  made 
by  Jacques  Cooles  Godefroy  shortly 
before  his  decease,  by  which  his  estate 
was  willed  to  the  church.  £roof  was 
wanting  to  controvert  this  second  will, 
which  the  descendants  have  supposed 
forged  or  obtained  from  a  mind  weak- 
ened by  disease.  Sam  L.  Knapp,  esq. 
was  employed  by  Moses  Cooles  Gode- 
froy, but  nothing  was  effected,  and  the 
despoiled  heir,  under  the  plain  English 
name  of  Moses  Cole,  continued  his  bus- 
iness on  State  street.  He  married 
Miss  Sally  Avery  from  York,  Maine, 
and  reared  a  large  family.  Mr.  Cole 
possessed  a  fine  talent  for  portrait 
painting,  which  he  delighted  to  culti- 
vate. His  sitters  were  counted  amongst 


188 


REMIXISCEXCE  S 


our  most  prominent  citizens,  and  many 
of  his  portraits  are  extant.  I  have 
mentioned  that  he  was  an  adept  in 
framing  the  paintings  and  wrought 
pictures  of  the  young  ladies  of  New- 
buryport.  On  Monroe's  visit  to  this 
town,  unknown  to  the  president,  Mr. 
Cole  sketched  a  fine  likeness  of  him 
while  he  was  at  the  dinner  table.  This 
artistic  talent  descended  in  his  family  ; 
three  of  the  sons  chose  art  as  a  profes- 
sion. Joseph  and  Charles,  both  de- 
ceased, were  noted  painters,  and  Mr. 
Lyman  Cole's  pictures  are  well  known 
in  this  vicinity.  Mr.  Moses  Cole  was 
a  sufferer  by  the  great  fire  of  1811, 
losing  both  his  dwelling  house  on  Mid- 
dle street,  and  his  store  on  State  street. 
He  died  in  1849,  aged  65.  His  widow, 
Salh*  (Avery)  Cole,  survived  •  many 
years,  dying  Oct.  23,  1874,  at  the  ad- 
vanced age  of  92  years. 
The  Godefroy  arms  are  : 


THREE    PELICANS'     HEAD'S    VULXIXG     THEMSELVES. 

CREST — A   DEMI    SARACEN   PPR,    HOLDI.VIi    IN 

THE  DEXTER  HAND  A  -LET 

FITCHEE  A. 

The  remains  of  Nicholas  Cooles 
Godefroy  lie  with  his  countrymen,  in  the 
valley  oa  burying  hill,  but  no  stone 
marks  the  grave. 

Anthony  and  Mary  Le  Breton  wore 
born  in  the  city  of  Nantes,  France. 


They  had  thirteen  children.  Stephen 
Le  Breton  their  eldest  child  emigrated 
to  the  West  Indies,  and  settled -in 
Guadaloupe. 

Pierre  Le  Breton  was  born  in  Nantes, 
Oct.  17,  1745,  being  the  youngest  of 
thirteen  children,  receiving  his  name 
from  his  paternal  grandfather.  When 
he  was  about  fifteen  years  old,  he  took 
French  leave  of  his  parents  and  home, 
and  went  to  join  his  brother  Stephen, 
of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  His 
brother  sent  him  immediately  back  to 
France.  As  a  punishment  for  this  es- 
capade, his  father  placed  him  an  ap- 
prentice to  a  cabinet  maker  ;  here  he 
learned  the  use  of  tools,  which  ever  af- 
ter was  a  source  of  pleasure  to  him. 
When  they  thought  him  sufficiently 
punished,  his  parents  consented  to  his 
joining  his  brother.  -  At  the  age  61 
twenty  he  was  the  owner  of  a  large 
plantation  and  a  number  of  slaves 
When  about  twent}--one  he  became 
very  ill,  pronounced  in  a  consumption, 
and  his  physicians,  for  a  change  of  -air, 
advised  a  trip  to  New  England.  Capt. 
William  Noyes,  the  husband  of  my 
great-aunt  Mollie  Smith,  was  at  the 
island  in  a  fine  new  ship,  and  with  him 
young  Le  Breton  took  passage.  This 
Capt.  Noyes  had  lost  one  of  his  hands  ; 
he  was  the  one  so  long  confined  in 
Dartmoor  prison  during  the  Revolu- 
tionary war ;  it  was  his  hat  that  fur- 
nished the  braid  by  which  my  aunt  Sa- 
rah Smith  learned  to  braid  straw. 
Capt.  Noyes  and  his  passenger  became 
firm  friends,  and  upon  their  arrival  in 
Newburyport,  the  captain  took  the 
young  Frenchman  home  to  his  house 
on  Liberty  street,  where  lie  remained 
boarding  in  the  family  until  he  entirely 
recovered  his  health.  Pierre  LeBre- 
ton  often  accompanied  Captain  and 


OF   A 


189 


Mrs.  Noyes  in  their  visits  to  the  Smith 
homestead  on  Crane-neck  hill.  I  have 
often  heard  rrry  aunt  Sarah  speak  of 
his  appearance  as  most  striking.  A 
pale,  fair  complexion,  deep,  bine  eyes 
shaded  by  long,  black  lashes,  and  dark, 
chestnut  hair  waving  in  curls  about  his 
face  and  neck.  A  large  garden  was 
attached  to  Capt.  Noyes'  house,  and 
there  Pierre  delighted  to  resort.  In  an 
adjoining  garden,  belonging  to  a  Mr. 
Pearson,  the  }'oung  foreigner  often  ob- 
served a  young  lady  busy  among  the 
flowers  ;  he  soon  formed  an  acquaint- 
ance, and  became  deeply  interested  in 
her.  This  interest  combined  with  his 
friendship  for  the  Noyes  family,  and 
his  strong  liking  for  the  town  of  New- 
buryport,  induced  him  to  dispose  of 
his  plantation  in  Guadaloupe  and  set- 
lle  here.  This  was  done  against  his 
parents'  and  brother  Stephen's  advice 
and  entreaties.  Not  being  acquainted 
with  business,  he  had  not  been  long  in 
the  country  before  he  lost  all  his  prop- 
erty. This  event  was  such  a  surprise 
that  ever  after  he  lived  in  a  state  of 
expectancy  and  preparation  for  a  simi- 
lar occurrence. 

He  had  now  to  commence  life  anew, 
and  went  to  his  old  friend,  to  whom  he 
was  very  strongly  attached,  for  advice. 
This  turned  his  attention  to  navigation. 
He  sailed  with  Capt.  Noyes  until  he 
became  both  ship  master  and  owner. 
Having  secured  a  competence,  again 
become  a  rich  man,  he  built  the  house 
on  Middle  street,  on  the  corner  of  Fair, 
opposite  the  Universalist  church,  with 
a  shop  attached,  that  in  case  he  should 
lose  property  he  might  in  some  measure 
be  prepared  for  it.  This  calamity,  so 
greatly  feared,  never  occurred.  The 
great  fire  of  1811  burned  to  his  house 
and  there  stopped. 


Having  accumulated  a  fortune,  and 
built  his  house,  he  determined  to  marry. 
All  this  time  he  had  entertained  an  in- 
terest in  Miss  Elisabeth  Pearson,  and 
having  ascertained  that  this  affection 
was  mutual,  after  great  opposition  from 
her  parents  on  account  of  his  being  a 
foreigner,  they  were  married  in  1776. 
Their  children  were  Peter  and  Elisa- 
beth LeBreton.  Mrs.  LeBreton  died, 
of  typhoid  fever,  taken  from  her  hus- 
band, Dec.  27,  1781,  aged  thirty-six 
3rears. 

After  remaining  three  }-ears  a  wid- 
ower, Mr.  LeBreton  married  Miss 
Elizabeth  Sawyer,  on  the  20th  of 
March,  1784.  They  had  one  child  who 
died  in  infancy.  At  the  time  of  this 
marriage,  a  sister  of  Elizabeth,  Eunice 
Sawyer,  was  taken  into  and  made  one 
of  the  family,  and  on  his  decease,  Mr. 
LeBreton  bequeathed  to  her  a  sufficient 
maintenance  during  her  life.  This 
property  Eunice  willed  back  to  the 
LeBreton  family,  but,  by  some  inform- 
ality in  the  will,  it  went  to  the  Sawyer 
relatives.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  LeBreton 
adopted  the  daughter  of  her  eldest  sis- 
ter Eunice  Couch  ;  the}*  also  adopted  the 
first  grandchild,  Peter  LeBretou,  when 
he  was  two  }*ears  old.  Capt  LeBre- 
ton was  a  generous,  genial  gentleman, 
the  soul  of  hospitality  and  good  humor. 

One  morning,  Mr.  Moses  Colman 
was  called  to  his  door,  where  he  found 
a  strange  woman  whose  home  he  failed 
to  enquire,  offering  a  pig  for  sale. 
She  was  on  horseback,  her  wares  in 
pannier  baskets.  Mr.  Colman  did  not 
need  the  pig  but  the  little  fellow  looked 
so  cunning,  peeping  from  the  basket, 
that  the  old  gentleman,  fond  of  pets, 
concluded  the  bargain,  and  the  small 
porker  was  placed  in  the  pen,  where  he 
became  the  distinguished  sire  of  the 


190 


REMESJSCE:NTCES 


famous  By  field  breed  of  swine.  This 
caused  Mr.  Colman's  pork  to  be  in 
great  demand.  Capt.  LeBreton  having 
purchased  a  pig  for  family  use,  David 
Emery,  then  a  lad  in  his  teens,  took  it 
ta  the  house,  where  it  was  carried  to 
the  kitchen  to  be  cut  up.  Through  his 
father  Colman,  David  had  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  Capt.  LeBreton,  with 
whom  he  was  a  favorite.  One  o'clock 
came,  the  dinner  bell  sounded.  A  sum- 
mons was  sent  for  David ;  the  youth 
hesitated ;  he  wore  only  his  common 
suit  under  his  frock  :  to  dine  with  Capt. 
LeBreton  he  ought  to  be  dressed  in  his 
Sunday  best,  but  the  old  gentleman  step- 
ping into  the  kitchen,  in  his  most  per- 
emptory manner  ordered  David  to  take 
off  his  frock  and  follow  him.  The 
bountiful  repast  over,  wine  was  served 
with  dessert,  and  little  Peter,  then 
scarcely  able  to  talk  plain,  was  told  to 
drink  to  the  guest.  The  little  fellow 
bashfully  demurred,  at  which  the  old 
gentleman  exclaimed,  "Peter,  mine 
grandson,  be  a  little  gentleman,  and 
diink  Monsieur  Emery's  health  directly. 
The  tiny  glass  was  filled,  and  little  Pe- 
ter drank  with  due  etiquette.  Mr.  Em- 
ery was  so  much  amused  that  he  often 
related  the  story. 

Capt.  Le  Breton  was  exceedingly  lib- 
eral to  his  workmen.  Every  Saturday 
night  those  in  his  employ  received  a 
piece  of  meat  for  their  Sunday  dinner. 
For  years  the  Captain  bought  his  meat 
of  Mr.  Emery.  Amongst  the  steve- 
dores was  an  Irishman  by  the  name  of 
Murray.  The  master  alwaj's  superin- 
tended the  giving  out  of  the  meat  to 
his  men,  and  in  his  fuun3r  way  he 
would  say:  "Cut  dat  for  Murray,  Da- 
vid, he  'ave  one  hard  tooth." 

This  Murray  had  a  wife,  a  most 
worthy  woman,  who  worked  for  me  for 


years  on  Monday,  for  a  quarter  of  a 
dollar  and  a  basket  of  cold  victuals  : 
and  on  Saturday  she  scoured  the  brass- 
es, candlesticks,  stairs  and  floors,  did 
the  day's  cleaning,  receiving  therefor, 
with  much  gratitude,  her  bundle  of  ed- 
ibles, and  the  coffee  grounds  which  for 
a  long  period  were  daily  poured  into  a 
pitcher  for  her  use. 

Capt.  LeBreton's  good  humored  gen- 
erosity  was  often  subjected  to  imposi- 
tion. One  day  he  came  to  the  sham- 
bles, and  with  a  jovial  face  and  in  gaj* 
tones,  said,  "David,  yesterday  I  gave 
one  leetle  bo}~  a  pair  of  shoes ;  dis 
mornin'  half  a  dozen  leetle  boys  come 
shoof,  shoof,  shoof,  after  me.  What 
did  it  mean  ?  Wanted  shoes,  hey  !  Too 
moosh,  too  moosh,  David,  but  I  shod 
the  rogues,  I  shod  every  garcon,  Da- 
vid," ending  his  recital  with  a  hearty 
laugh,  rubbing  his  hands  together  in 
great  glee. 

In  1807,  Etienne  LeBretagne,  Capt. 
LeBreton's  eldest  arid  best  beloved 
brother,  Stephen,  made  him  a  visit, 
and  was  much  pleased  with  the  coun- 
try  and  people,  and  declared,  "if  he  had 
been  a  3'ounger  man  he  would  remove 
himself  and  family,  and  finish  his  days 
here  with  his  brother."  Two  other 
brothers  visited  him,  one  of  whom  set- 
tled in  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  the 
other  in  some  part  of  New  Jersey. 

Capt.  LeBreton  was  a  Catholic.  In 
performance  of  a  vow  he  presented  the 
First  Religious  societ}*  of  Xewburyport 
with  the  pair  of  tall  silver  tankards, 
used  in  the  sacramental  service. 

Pierre  LeBreton  died  in  Newbury- 
port,  from  gout  in  the  stomach,  Febru- 
ary "24,  1813,  aged  67  years. 

Peter  LeBreton,  the  only  son  of 
Capt.  LeBreton,  married  Tabitha  Lew- 
is of  Marblehead,  Sept.,  1800.  Their 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


191 


oldest  son.  Peter,  adopted  by  his  grand- 
father, at  his  death  received  property 
independent  of  his  father.  Peter  Le- 
Brcton  3d,  married  in  1823,  Sarah  E., 
daughter  of  Tristram  Chase,  of  the 
Chase  farm,  Meeting-house  hill,  West 
Newbory. 

Elisabeth  LeBreton,  the  oldest  daugh- 
ter, married  Henry  Johnson  in  1825. 
This  lady  died  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  leaving  an  infant  ten  days  old. 

Mary  Anthony,  the  second  daughter 
of  Peter  LeBreton,  jun.,  named  by 
her  grandfather  for  his  father  and 
mother,  Marie  Antoine  LeBretagne, 
married  Henrj*  Johnson,  May,  1826. 

Edmund  Lewis  LeBreton,  the  sec- 
ond son,  married  Lucy  Oliver,  daugh- 
ter of  Dr.  Prescott,  September,  1829. 

Stephen  LeBreton,  the  third  son  of 
Peter  LeBreton,  jun.,  died  unmarried, 
Nov.  4,  1834. 

Caroline  Lewis,  the  third  daughter, 
married  John  Stephen  Bartlett,  July, 
1832.  John  Stephen  Bartlett,  M.  D., 
died  in  M*arblehead,  March  6,  1840: 
his  widow  married  Capt.  William  Ham- 
mond of  Marblehead,  Ma}-,  1842. 

The  fourth  son,  George  Washington 
LeBreton,  was  shot  by  an  Indian  in 
Oregon,  and  died  from  inflammation, 
March  G,  1844,  aged  32  years. 

Charlotte,  youngest  daughter  of  Pe- 
ter LeBreton,  jun.,  married  John  James 
Coombs,  August,  1835. 

Elisabeth  LeBreton,  only  daughter 
of  ('apt.  Peter  and  Elisabeth  (Pearson) 
LeBreton,  was  born  Nov.  28,  1786. 
Her  mother  died  when  she  was  but  two 
years  old.  ]  ler  grandmother  and  aunts 
who  lived  in  the  next  house,  cared  for 
her  until  her  father's  second  marriage, 
in  1784,  to  Elisabeth  Sawyer,  who 
made  herself  beloved,  not  only  to  the 


father,  the  children,  and  the  Pearson 
family,  but  to  all  who  knew  her. 

Elisabeth  LeBreton  married  Captain 
David  Stickney,  in  1802.  They  had 
four  children ;  Elisabeth  LeBreton, 
Hannah  Lee,  Peter  LeBreton,  and  Ma- 
ry Thurston  Stickney.  Capt.  Stickney 
died  February,  1820.  The  widow 
Stickney  married  the  Rev.  Henry  C. 
Wright,  then  pastor  of  the  society  in 
first  parish  in  West  Newbury,  in  1826. 

Eunice  Couch,  the  niece  adopted  by 
Captain  and  Mrs.  LeBreton,  married 
David  Rogers.  She  died  in  Cincinnati, 
aged  30  years. 

Mrs.  Elisabeth  (Saw3'er)  LeBreton 
died  May  4,  1822,  aged  74  years. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

The  first  meeting-house  in  Newbury 
was  built  on  the  lower  green  in  Old- 
town,  but  in  1642,  a  majority  of  the 
population  having  moved  farther  up  on 
the  Merrimac,  a  new  house  of  worship 
was  erected.  This  removal  caused 
much  opposition  and  contention,  but  in 
1642  "there  was  granted  to  Mr.  James 
Noyes,  four  acres  of  land  upon  the  hill, 
by  the  little  pine  swamp,  upon  which  to 
set  the  meeting-house."  Of  this  struc- 
ture I  have  no  record,  excepting  that 
the  canopy  of  the  pulpit  was  presented 
to  the  new  society  in  the  west  precinct, 
after  the  erection  of  their  meeting- 
house, the  first  parish  having  built  a 
new  sanctuary,  in  the  year  1 700. 

I  distinctly  remember  this  building, 
the  spire  and  high  pointed  roof  being 
plainly  visible  from  Crane-neck  hill. 
It  was  a  square  edifice  of  two  stories, 
with  front  and  side  entrances,  the  high 


192 


REMIXTSCEXCES 


four-sided  roof  terminated  at  the  apex 
in  a  dome-shaped  belfry,  surmounted 
by  a  high,  pointed  spire,  crowned  by  a 
copper  weathercock.  The  principal  en- 
trance opened  into  a  broad  aisle,  which 
led  to  the  high  pulpit,  with  the  sounding- 
board  above,  the  deacon's  seat  beneath, 
and  the  communion  table  in  front.  Two 
short  cross  aisles  led  from  the  side  doors. 
(4-alleries  ran  round  three  sides  of  the 
house.  The  -'singing  seats"  were  op-  I 
posite  the  pulpit ;  the  side  galleries  were  j 
filled  with  benches,  and  a  larger  part  of 
the  lower  floor.  Space  was  appropri- 
ated for  pews,  and  permission  granted 
to  about  twenty  persons  to  build  them. 
It  was  voted,  '"that  a  pew  be  built  for 
the  minister's  wife  by  the  pulpit  stairs  ; 
that  Colonel  Daniel  Pierce  esquire 
should  have  the  first  choice  of  a  pew 
and  Major  Thomas  Noyes  the  second, 
and  Colonel  Daniel  Pierce  esquire,  and 
Tristram  Coffin  esquire,  be  impowered 
to  procure  a  bell  of  about  four  hundred 
pounds  weight." 

The  inscription  on  this  bell,  was  "let 
us  love  as  brethren,  Mathew  Bayle^y 
fundet  1705."  It  was  ordered  "that 
this  bell  be  rung  at  nine  o'clock  every 
night  and  the  da}-  of  the  month  be 
tolled." 

As  the  belfry  was  just  above  the 
centre  of  the  ceiling,  the  bell  rope  de- 
pended therefrom,  and  the  bell-ringer 
stood  in  the  broad  aisle  to  perform  his 
duty. 

The  Rev.  John  Woodbridge,  the  suc- 
cessor of  Messrs.  Parker  and  Noyes. 
died  in  1695.  The  next  clerg3'man  was 
the  Rev.  John  Richardson  :  his  succes- 
cessor,  the  Rev.  Christopher  Toppan. 
who  died  in  1747  ;  he  was  followed  b}- 
the  Rev.  John  Tucker  ;  the  last  clergy- 
man to  minister  through  his  pastorate 
in  the  old  meeting  house  wa$  the  Rev. 


Abraham  Moore,  a  fine  speaker  and  a 
man  of  superior  literary  attainments  ; 
he  died  in  1801,  and  the  Rev.  John 
Popkin  was  ordained  in  1804.  In 
1806  a  new  house  was  built ;  this 
structure  many  of  our  readers  still  re- 
member. On  May  4,  Dr.  Popkin 
preached  for  the  last  time  in  the  old 
building  ;  May  6th,  it  was  torn  down. 

On  the  1 6th  of  June  there  was  a  to- 
tal eclipse  of  the  sun  ;  the  obscuration 
commenced  about  ten  o'clock,  and  in 
half  an  hour  stars  were  visible ;  the 
birds  flew  to,  the  trees,  and  the  fowl 
sought  their  roosts.  On  this  day  the 
sills  of  the  new  meeting  house  were 
laid,  and  it  was  dedicated  on  the 
seventeenth  of  September.  The  rais- 
ing and  dedication  were  days  of  jubi- 
lee, "in  which  great  crowds  thronged  to 
Oldtown. 

By  the  year  1685,  what  was  termed 
the  west  precinct,  or  the  new  town,  had 
acquired  so  large  a  population,  that  the 
inhabitants,  being  such  a  distance  from 
the  meeting  house,  began  to  consider 
the  expediency  of  forming  a  second 
parish,  and  erecting  a  house  of  worship 
in  a  more  convenient  locality.  March 
10,  a  petition  was  sent  to  the  town  of 
Newbury,  "the  humble  request  of 
some  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  town, 
doe  desire  and  entreat,  that  you  would 
be  pleased  to  grant  us  your  consent, 
approbation  and  assistance  in  getting 
some  help  in  the  ministry  amongst  us, 
by  reason  that  we  doe  live  soe  remote 
from  the  means,  great  part  of  us,  that 
we  cannot  with  ai\y  comfort  and  con- 
venience come  to  the  public  worship  of 
God ;  neither  can  our  families  be 
brought  up  under  the  means  of  grace  as 
Christians  ought  to  bee.  and  which  is 
absolutely  necessary  unto  salvation ; 
therefore  we  will  humbly  crave  your 


OF    A   NONAGEXARIAST. 


193 


loving  compliance  with  us  in  this  our 
request."  This  petition  commenced  a 
contest  which  lasted  for  several  years, 
which  shows  that  the  men  of  "  ye  good 
old  times"  were  subject  to  like  pas- 
sions and  prejudices  as  those  of  more" 
modern  days. 

In  1688,  Joseph  Moring  bequeathed, 
in  his  will,  twenty  pounds  to  the  "  new 
town"  in  Newbury,  to  help  build  a 
meeting-house.  The  next  year,  1869, 
sixteen  persons  erected  a  meeting-house 
about  thirty  feet  square,  at  the  plains. 
In  the  February  following,  the  town 
appointed  a  committee  of  eight  per- 
sons to  confer  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rich- 
ardson respecting  the  propriety  of  the 
west-end  people  calling  a  minister.  Mr. 
Richardson,  anxious  not  to  give  of- 
fence, declined  to  express  his  opinion 
or  give  his  advice.  The  committee  re- 
ported, "  that  considering  the  times  as 
troublesome,  and  the  towne  being  so 
much  behind  with  Mr.  Richardson's  sal- 
ary, the  farmers  and  the  neck  men  be- 
ing under  great  disadvantages  upon 
many  accounts,  do  desire  and  expect, 
if  such  a  thing  be  granted,  that  the}' 
should  have  the  same  privilege  to  pro- 
vide for  themselves,  which  we  think 
cannot  conduce  to  peace,  therefore  de- 
sire the  new  towue  to  rest  satisfied  for 
the  present." 

At  the  town  meeting  in  March,  fif- 
teen men  belonging  to  the  west  end, 
'w  after  stating  that  it  was  well  known 
how  far  they  had  proceeded  as  to  a 
meeting-house,  left  two  propositions 
with  the  town ;  one  that  the  town 
would  agree  to  support  two  ministers, 
so  that  one  could  preach  at  the  west 
end  meeting-house,  or  that  the  town 
would  consent  to  have  the  ministry 
amongst  them  upon  their  own  charge, 
and  that  the  town  would  lovingly  agree 


upon  a  dividing  line  between  them  so 
that  they  might  know  what  families 
may  now  belong  to  the  west  meeting- 
house." 

The  summer  following,  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  "new  towne"  began  to 
consider  respecting  the  calling  of  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Tomsonto  minister  to  them  in  spir- 
itual things.  This  elicited  a  vote  by  the 
town  "  against  the  settlement  of  Mr. 
Tomson  or  any  other  minister  until  ye 
church  and  towne  are  agreed  upon  it, 
looking  upon  such  a  thing  as  an  intru- 
sion upon  ye  church  and  town."  In 
October  the  people  of  the  west  end 
petitioned  the  general  court,  "  to  be  es- 
tablished a  people  by  themselves,  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  ministry  amongst 
them." 

In  December,  the  town  voted  against 
this  petition  being  granted,  and  chose 
a  committee  to  present  a  counter  peti- 
tion to  the  general  court.  In  1 692  the 
west  end  people  again  made  a  petition 
and  proposition  about  calling  a  minis- 
ter. Dec.  20,  the  town  voted  that 
the}7  would  call  another  minister  at  the 
west  end.  On  the  27th,  a  committee 
was  chosen  ' '  to  enquire  after  a  suitable 
person  to  preach  at  the  west  end  and 
to  keep  schoole."  In  May,  1693,  the 
town  voted  that  Mr.  John  Clark  be 
called  to  assist  Mr.  Richardson  at 
the  west  end,  and  to  keep  a  grammar 
school."  This  vote  caused  much 
dissension,  as  most  of  the  west 
end  people  felt  bound  to  adhere  to  Mr. 
Tomson.  June  15,  another  petition 
was  forwarded  to  the  general  court,  in 
which  the}-  request  the  governor  and 
council,  "  to  pity  and  help  them,  to  ease 
them  of  a  heavy  burden  of  travel  on 
God's  day."  July  5th,  "the  town  in 
their  votes  for  the  choice  of  a  minister 
for  the  west  end  of  the  towne,  in  order 
25 


194 


REMINISCENCES 


to  a  full  settlement  in  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry.  and  Mr.  John  Clark  was  then  cho- 
sen and  not  one  vote  against  him."  Twen- 
ty-five persons  of  the  west  end  entered 
their  dissent  against  calling  Mr.  Clark, 
"  for  the  reason  that  the  new  towne 
have  a  minister  alread}-."  Mr.  Clark 
declined  the  call,  and  Mr.  Christopher 
Toppan  was  invited  to  preach  at  the 
"  new  towne."  Mr.  Toppan  declined 
to  settle,  but  expressing  his  willingness 
to  help  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  for 
a  year,  the  town  voted  to  give  Mr. 
Toppan  forty  pounds  in  money,  and 
four  contributions  a  year. 

Oct.  22d,  1694,  "  the  towne  brought 
in'theyr  votes  by  papers,  fora  minister 
for  the  west  end  of  Newbury,  and  Mr. 
Christopher  Toppan  had  sixty-five  votes 
and  Mr.  Tomson  seventeen.  Jan.  1, 
1695,  the  town  met  and  voted  ; 'that  Pipe- 
stave  hill  near  Daniel  Jaques'  house 
shall  be  the  place  for  the  meeting-house, 
and  those  that  live  nearest  to  that 
place  shall  pay  to  the  ministry  there, 
and  those  that  live  nearest  to  the  old 
meeting-house  shall  pay  there  ;  the  in- 
habitants of  the  west  end  to  choose  a 
minister  for  themselves,  only  Mr.  Tom- 
son  excepted,  and  the  meeting-house 
to  stand  where  it  do,  until  the  major 
part  of  them  see  cause  to  remove  it." 

Jan.  3d,  Tristram  Coffin,  Henry 
Short  and  Abraham  Merrill,  divided 
the  town  into  two  parishes. 

June  5th,  "Town  voted  to  give  Mr. 
Christopher  Toppan  20  pounds  year- 
1}- in  money,  and  three  hundred  pounds 
in  good  country  pa}*,  so  long  as  he  car- 
ries on  one  half  of  the  ministry  among 
them,  and  thirty  pounds  a  year  so  long 
as  he  shall  keep  a  grammar  and  a 
writing  school,  the  scholars  to  pay  as 
they  did  to  Mr.  John  Clark  Mr.  Top- 


pan  accepted  these  proposals  July 
seventeenth. 

Dec.  18th.  The  town.  *'on  the  re- 
quest of  the  inhabitants  of  the  west 
end  of  the  town  of  Xewbury,  grunted 
them  five  acres  of  land  on  the  east  side 
of  Artichoke  river  for  a  pasture  for  the 
ministry,  and  one  acre  of  land  near  the 
west  meeting  house,  and  when  the  ma- 
jor part  shall  see  cause  to  remove  the 
said  meeting  house,  the  land  shall  be- 
at the  disposal  of  the  town  to  procure 
laud  for  the  ministry,  near  the  we>t 
meeting  house  when  removed." 

Feb.  28th.  1696.  A  rate  was  made 
for  payment  of  building  and  furnishing 
the  west  end  meeting-house  and  ministry 
house.  The  expense  was  twenty-two 
pounds  and  three  shillings  in  money,  and 
two  hundred  and  eighteen  pounds,  eigh- 
teen shillings  and  two  pence  in  pay. 
This  was  due  from  sixty-four  persons. 
Of  this  number  twenty-four  objected  to 
the  continuance  of  the  meeting-house 
on  the  plains,  being  desirous  that  it 
should  be  removed  farther  up  to  Pipe- 
stave  hill.  These  were  Benjamin  and 
Joseph  Morse,  Thomas,  Daniel  and 
Moses  Chase,  John  senior  and  John 
jr.,  and  Abial  Kelley,  Mr.  Abraham 
Annis,  Isaac  and  Joseph  Richardson. 
Abel  Huse,  Caleb  Moody.  Benjamin 
Low,  Tristram  Greenleaf.  Daniel  Mor- 
rison, Edward  Woodman.  John  Hoag, 
Hanariah  Ordway.  Thomas  Follansbee, 
Lieut.  John  Emerson,  Thomas  Wil- 
liams, Francis  Willet  and  Samuel  Sa- 
yer  jr.,  This  dissent  continued  for 
years,  the  subject  of  strife  thereafter 
being  the  site  of  the  west  end  meeting- 
house. 

In  April  the  Rev.  Mr.  Richardson 
died,  and  in  September  Mr.  Christo- 
pher Toppan  was  ordained  his  succes- 
sor. That  same  year  the  Rev.  Samuel 


OF    A   NONAGENARIAN. 


195 


Belcher  with  his  family  came  to  the 
west  precinct.  In  October,  1698,  a 
church  was  gathered  and  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Belcher  was  ordained  on  November 
10th.  In  January,  1706,  the  precinct 
voted  ' '  that  they  either  would  remove 
the  meeting-house  and  build  an  addi- 
tion to  it,  or  else  build  a  new  meeting- 
house." February  28th,  it  was  voted 
' k  that  ye  inhabitants  of  3-6  west  end 
of  the  town  of  Newbury  will  build  a 
new  meeting-house  upon  Pipestave  hill, 
fifty-four  feet  long,  and  thirty-four  feet 
broad,  within  ye  space  of  five  years  at 
ye  furthest,  and  to  meet  in  the  old  meet- 
ing-house five  years,  and  not  to  force 
airy  person  to  pay  any  money  or  pay 
till  three  years  be  expired,  and  then  to 
pay  one-quarter  part  yearly  until  ye 
whole  be  paid."  From  this  vote  twen- 
ty persons  dissented.  Captain  Hugh 
March,  Caleb  Moody,  and  sergeant 
John  Ordway  were  chosen  a  committee 
to  build  the  new  meeting-house,  and 
the  foundation  was  laid  in  1709.  In 
February  the  opposition  at  the  plains 
petitioned  the  general  court  for  relief, 
showing  that  only  twelve  years  before 
the}'  had  built  a  meeting-house,  and 
those  now  calling  themselves  the  major- 
ity had  been  since  planted  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  precinct,  yet  the  majority 
had  proceeded  to  levy  a  tax,  and  to 
employ  a  collector  to  take  away  their 
goods  for  the  furtherance  of  their  de- 
sign to  erect  the  more  remote  house ; 
that  the  expense  of  another  building 
would  be  a  heavy  burthen,  necessitat- 
ing them  to  lose  the  charge  to  which 
they  had  been  put,  besides  frustrating 
the  enjoyment  of  the  means  of  grace 
for  themselves  and  their  children.  If 
no  other  relief  offered,  they  prayed  to 
be  set  off,  to  maintain  a  minister  and 
a  ministry  amongst  themselves.  This 


document  was  signed  by  fifty-five  per- 
sons.— eleven  Bartlets,  six  Sawyers, 
three  Merrills,  four  Browns,  three  Bai- 
leys, Charles  and  Joseph  Annis,  two 
Thurstons,  two  named  Rogers,  three 
Littles,  and  nineteen  others.  In  the 
March  town  meeting  of  the  next  year, 
the  inhabitants  of  the  precinct  voted 
''that  they  accepted  of  what  was  al- 
ready done,  and  authorized  the  major 
part  of  the  committee  (who  were  cho- 
sen in  1706,  February  twenty-eighth)  to 
proceed  and  finish  the  meeting-house 
according  to  the  time  mentioned  in 
said  vote." 

On  June  2d,  a  notification  from  the 
general  court  was  served  on  the  town 
of  Newbury,  by  some  of  the  west  end 
petitioners.  June  7th,  the  town  chose 
Col.  Thomas  Noyes  to  act  in  their  be- 
half. This  gentleman  decided  that  the 
major  part  could  not  be  aggrieved  by 
putting  down  the  old,  or  putting  up 
the  new  meeting-house ;  he  concluded 
by  saying,  "the  whole  of  the  western 
precinct,  assemble  in  a  house  not  above 
thirty  feet  square,  and  yet  rather  than 
not  have  their  wills  they  would  have 
two  churches." 

This  produced  a  reply  from  the  mi- 
nority, in  which  the}"  state  that  they 
"  have  one  hundred  and  thirty  families, 
seventy  of  which  do  not  live  two  miles 
from  the  old  meeting-house."  They 
confess  to  a  desire  to  have  their  wills, 
in  so  far  as  they  are  not  sparing  of 
their  purses  for  the  propagation  of 
the  gospel  for  themselves,  and  partic- 
ularly for  their  children,  and  if  it  is 
more  convenient  to  obtain  this  good 
end,  they  had  rather  have  two  church- 
es and  two  meeting-houses,  and  they, 
petitioned  the  court  to  this  end.  This 
petition  was  not  granted,  and  it  was 
resolved  in  council,  that  Pipestave  hill 


196 


EEMLNTISCEISrCES 


was  the  most  convenient  place,  and  a 
committee  was  appointed  to  wait  upon 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Belcher  and  acquaint  him 
with  the  desire  of  the  court,  that  when 
a  meeting-house  should  be  erected 
there,  and  convenient  dwelling  house, 
with  suitable  accommodation  of  land, 
he  be  content  to  remove  thither. 

Determined  not  to  worship  in  the 
meeting-house  on  Pipestave  hill,  twen- 
ty-seven of  the  petitioners  signed  the 
following : 

"  July  ye  12th,  1710. 

We  whose  names  Are  hereto  Sub- 
scribed doo  Agree  And  oblidge  our- 
sealves  to  each  other  to  mayntain  the 
publick  ministry  At  the  old  meeting- 
house in  3*6  west  precinct  in  Xewbury, 
Although  we  are  forsed  to  pa}T  Else- 
where what  shall  be  lavid  upon  us." 

On  the  next  day  the  inhabitants  of 
the  west  end  held  a  meeting,  and  voted 
to  "  observe  the  direction  and  resolve 
of  the  general  court."  On  July  17th 
the}7  held  another  meeting,  in  which 
they  voted  to  ' '  levy  a  tax  of  four  hun- 
dred pounds  to  defray  part  of  the  charg- 
es of  building  a  meeting-house,  minis- 
try house,  and  so  forth,  to  pay  back  all 
they  had  taken  by  distraint,  and  to  con- 
firm all  that  the  building  committee 
chosen  in  1706  had  done,  and  gave 
them  full  power  to  finish." 

On  the  19th  of  April,  1711,  the  pre- 
cinct had  another  meeting,  and.  as  the 
time  of  five  years  during  which  they 
had  determined  to  meet  in  the  old  meet- 
ing-house had  expired,  the  majority  pro- 
ceeded to  earn"  the  remainder  of  the 
vote  into  execution.  A  committee  of 
three  was  chosen,  to  dispose  of  the  min- 
istry house  and  land  near  the  old  meet- 
ing-house, and  obtain  a  house  and  land 
near  the  ne\»  meeting-house  at  Pipe- 
stave  hill.  It  was  also  voted  "  to  take 
the  seates  and  boards  and  glass  out  of 


3"e  old  meeting-house  to  be  improved  in 
the  new  meeting-house,  and  also  to  re- 
move the  old  meeting-house  and  sett  it 
up  att  Pipestave  hill  to  be  improved  as 
a  barn  for  the  ministry  in  convenient 
time." 

Of  course  this  vote  but  added  fuel  to 
the  flame.  The  minority  firmly  resist- 
ed every  attempt  at  removal  of  ••  the 
Plains  "  meeting-house.  One  night  in 
the  first  of  the  summer,  a  party  came 
down  from  the  upper  part  of  the  parish, 
and  in  a  disorderly  and  riotous  manner 
tore  down  the  old  meeting-house  and 
carried  it  off.  The  minority*,  being  as 
determined  not  to  submit  as  the  major- 
ity were  to  govern,  immediately  began 
the  erection  of  another  house  of  wor- 
ship. To  frustrate  this  undertaking, 
in  July  a  committee  of  six  persons 
petitioned  the  general  court  to  stay  the 
proceedings.  The  court  directed  that 
the  ' k  ra}'sing  of  the  meeting-house  be 
delayed  until  there  be  a  hearing  of  the 
matter  before  the  court." 

Xo  attention  was  paid,  by  the  mi- 
nority, to  this  order.  This  caused 
another  petition  against  them,  in  which 
it  was  stated  that  the  minority  had 
"raised  and  part  covered  a  meeting- 
house, and  set  it  near  the  dividing  line, 
notwithstanding  the  advice  and  direc- 
tion of  the  court." 

The  court  immediate!}'  ordered  "that 
Samuel  Bartlet,  John  Ordway,  Deacon 
Joshua  Brown,  Joshua  Bailey.  Skipper 
Lunt  and  Penuel  Titcomb,  be  anew 
served  by  the  sheriff  with  a  process 
and  order  of  this  court,  strictly  forbid- 
ding them  and  their  associates  proceed- 
ing in  the  work  of  their  intended  meet- 
ing-house, and  that  said  persons  be 
summoned  to  attend  the  fall  session  of 
the  court." 

On  the  23d  of   October,   1711,  the 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


197 


minority  again  petitioned  the  court  for 
leave   to    go    on   with   their   meeting- 
house.    "That  the  farthermost  of  forty 
families,  and  about  thirty  more  of  our 
neighbors  are  not  above  one  and  a  half 
miles  from  the  meeting-house  we  are 
about  to  erect,  and  that  we  deem  it  a 
duty  to  maintain  the  Rev.  Mr.  Belcher, 
(for  whom  we  have  a  peculiar  respect) , 
until    he    may    be    orderly    dismist." 
They  also  requested  the  court  ' '  to  set 
them  off  as  a  precinct,   making  Arti- 
choke river  the  dividing  line,  as  there 
are  now  ninety-six  families  above  Arti- 
choke  river."      The   court   considered 
that  there  was  no  present  necessity  for 
this  new  precinct  and  church,  and  or- 
dered that  the  building  of  the  house  be 
no  further  proceeded  with.     No  regard 
being  paid  to  this  order,  the  court  sent  an 
express  to  forbid  the  work.     Several 
gentlemen    went  to   Boston   to    show 
their  grievances,  but  obtained  no  relief; 
there  they  met  a  Mr.  John  Bridger  of 
Portsmouth.    This  gentleman  was  "sur- 
veyor   of   the   king's   woods,"   and   a 
churchman.     He    informed   the   New- 
bury  party  that  the  Church  of  England 
would  protect  them  if  they  would  put 
themselves  under  its  control.     He  vis- 
ited Newbury,  and  told  the  "plains" 
people  that  if  they  would  convert  their 
intended  meeting-house  into  a  church, 
he  would  ensure  them  the  protection  of 
the  governor. 

Some  were  somewhat  acquainted  with 
the  church  ;  after  the  perusal  of  several 
Episcopal  books,  a  consent  was  given, 
and  the  Rev.  Henry  Harris,  who  had 
been  sent  from  England  to  minister  at 
King's  Chapel,  Boston,  came  and 
preached  to  them.  This  gentlemen 
was  the  father  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Harris 
for  whom  Harris  street  is  named.  At 
the  time  of  his  coming,  when  a  ship  ar- 


rived from  England  it  was  customary 
for  persons  expecting  friends  to  go  to  the 
wharf  to  meet  them  on  their  landing. 
Amongst  the  throng  assembled  on  this 
occasion  was  a  young  lady,  whose 
glance  riveted  that  of  the  handsome 
missionary  ere  the  ship  reached  the 
landing.  This  "love  at  first  sight" 
was  soon  followed  by  the  marriage  of 
the  j-outhful  pair. 

Mr.  Harris  sent  a  Mr.  Lampton,  the 
chaplain  of  a  station  ship,  to  preach  at 
the  Plains.  Some  went  to  the  meeting 
at  Pipestave  hill,  but  the  majority  em- 
braced the  doctrines  of  the  Church  of 
England.  Thus  the  Episcopal  society 
was  formed,  and  the  church  completed, 
under  the  designation  of  Queen  Ann's 
Chapel.  In  May,  1715,  the  Rev.  Hen- 
ry Lucas,  of  London,  was  appointed 
their  rector.  The  bishop  of  London 
presented  a  bell  to  the  society.  This 
bell  afterwards  became  memorable  as 
an  object  of  contention  between  the  so- 
ciety at  Belleville  and  that  of  St.  Paul's. 
A  large  silver  christening  basin  was 
presented  by  Capt.  Richard  Brown,  a 
native  of  England,  who  came  to  New- 
buryport  from  the  West  Indies.  He 
married  a  Miss  Hudson.  Capt.  Daniel 
Marquand  married  his  widow,  from 
whom  are  the  descendants  of  that 
name  and  one  family  of  Jenkins.  He 
was  interred  in  the  cemetery  on  the 
Plains.  The  communion  service  con- 
sisted of  a  flagon,  inscribed:  "The 
gift  of  K.  William  and  Q.  Mary  to  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Myles,  for  the  use  of  their 
Majesties'  Chappell  in  New  England, 
1694,"  and  a  chalice  with  the  inscrip- 
tion :  "  Ex  dono  Johannis  Mills  1693." 
This  plate,  in  good  preservation,  is  now 
in  use  at  St.  Paul's  church.  In  1720 
Mr.  Lucas  died,  and  the  Rev.  Matthias 
Plant,  a  graduate  of  Jesus  College, 


198 


REMINISCENCES 


Cambridge,  England,  succeeded  in  the 
rectorship. 

As  early  as  1725,  the  church  people 
dwelling  at  the  water  side  formed  the 
idea  of  building  a  new  church,  but  the 
'  •  Plains  "  people  being  unwilling  to 
join  them,  nothing  was  done  until  1738. 
Then,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Plant  and  Joseph 
Atkins,  esq.,  each  having  offered  to 
present  fifty  pounds  towards  building  a 
new  church  at  the  "  Port,"  the  founda- 
tion of  one  was  laid  at  the  head  of 
Queen,  now  Market  street.  The  church 
was  not  completed  until  1740.  It  was 
arranged  that  Mr.  Plant  should  officiate 
at  both  churches.  This  caused  some 
difficult}*,  which  was  happily  settled. 
In  1751  Mr.  Edward  Bass  was  chosen 
to  assist  Mr.  Plant,  who  died  in  1753. 
For  a  while  a  monthly  service  was  held 
in  Queen  Ann's  Chapel,  but.  as  time 
passed,  this  gradually  became  discon- 
tinued, and  the  building  fell  into  deca}% 

The  Rev.  Edward  Bass,  though  ad- 
vanced to  the  bishopric  of  Massachu- 
setts, still  continued  to  officiate  at  St. 
Paul's  church.  He  died  the  10th  of 
September,  1803,  and  the  Rev.  James 
Morse  was  settled  the  November  fol- 
lowing. 

In  1800  the  present  church  was  built. 
I  have  a  recollection  of  the  old  build- 
ing, which  was  small  and  painted  light 
yellow.  This  church  had  been  fur- 
nished with  an  organ,  the  first  in  the 
town.  This  organ  is  a  noted  instru- 
ment, being  the  oldest  in  America.  It 
was  built  by  J.  Preston,  in  York.  Eng- 
land. Having  been  detained  in  his 
workshop,  it  escaped  destruction  at  the 
time  of  the  pious  raid  upon  organs  in 
the  churches  b}'  Cromwell's  soldiers. 
At  the  commencement  of  the  last  cen- 
tury it  was  brought  to  Boston  by 
Thomas  Brattle,  and  presented  to 


King's  Chapel  in  that  city,  but  so  strong 
was  the  feeling  in  New  England  against 
anything  savoring  of  popery  that  it  re- 
mained a  long  time  in  the  packing  case 
in  the  porch.  At  length,  in  1714.  it 
was  set  up,  and  used  for  forty  years. 
when  it  was  bought  by  the  societ}-  of 
St.  Paul's.  In  that  church  it  sent  forth 
its  melody  for  more  than  two  genera- 
tions. Some  years  since,  a  larger  or- 
gan having  been  procured,  the  venera- 
ble relic  was  purchased  by  the  society 
of  St.  John's  church,  in  Portsmouth. 
N.  H.  When  a  girl,  my  mother  at- 
tended St.  Paul's  to  hear  the  novel  in- 
strument. She  was  highly  delighted 
with  the  music  and  much  impressed  by 
the  service,  and  the  grandeur  of  the 
Daltons,  Atkins.  Cutlers.  Hoopers, 
Jacksons,  John  Tracy's,  and  other  fam- 
ilies of  ton  who  worshipped  there. 

The  corner-stone  of  the  present 
church  was  laid  with  masonic  ceremo- 
nies. The  altar,  aisles  and  gallery  are 
as  when  built,  but  the  first  pews  were 
roomy  compartments,  with  high,  pan- 
eled sides.  The  pulpit  was  peculiarly 
graceful,  rising  from  a  pillar  and  spread- 
ing like  a  wineglass.  Above  it  hung  a 
sounding-board,  equally  elegant  in  de- 
sign. Before  the  reading  desk  was  a 
lower  one  for  the  clerk.  Either  side  of 
the  entrance  to  the  broad  aisle  were 
two  small  pews,  with  high,  ornamental 
partitions ;  from  the  front  corners  of 
each  to  the  right  and  left,  uprose 'two 
tall,  brightly-painted  poles,  terminating 
at  the  top  by  gilded  balls.  These  pews 
were  the  seats  for  the  church  wardens, 
and  the  rods  were  the  warden's  poles, 
which  in  those  days  played  no  unim- 
portant part  in  the  ceremonies  of  the 
service,  being  borne  in  state  by  the 
wardens,  as,  with  majestic  step,  they 
preceded  the  bishop  up  the  broad 


OF    A 


199 


aisle  upon  his  entrance  into  the 
church.  They  also  did  good  service 
in  the  discipline  of  the  more  j-outh- 
ful  worshippers  —  the  fear  of  a  rap 
on  the  pate  from  these  emblazoned 
poles  being  inculcated  with  becoming 
seriousness  by  the  matrons  of  the  so- 
ciety, as  they  marshalled  their  bright, 
frolicsome  troops  of  boys  and  girls 
across  the  portals  of  the  sacred  edifice. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Belcher  having  be- 
come aged  and  infirm,  returned  to  Ips- 
wich, his  native  place,  where  he  died 
March  12th,  1715,  universally  mourned 
and  esteemed. 

The  Rev.  John  Tufts  was  ordained 
over  the  society  at  Pipestave  hill  in 
1714.  Mr.  Tufts  possessed  a  fine  taste, 
and,  for  those  days,  superior  skill  in 
music.  To  improve  the  singing  in  his 
choir  and  those  of  other  churches,  the 
3'ear  after  his  settlement  he  published  a 
small  work  on  music,  which  was  sold 
for  sixpence  a  copy  or  five  shillings  per 
dozen.  Few  tunes  were  then  used  — 
York,  Hackne}*,  St.  Mary's,  Windsor, 
and  Martyrs,  were  the  principal.  In 
most  congregations  the  singing  was  en- 
tirely b}T  rote,  which  was  considered 
papistical  by  the  more  rigid  ;  and  Mr. 
Tuft's  attempt  to  improve  sacred  music 
was  a  daring  innovation  that  for  a  time 
met  much  opposition. 

In  January,  1716,  the  church  in  the 
west  precinct  kept  a  day  of  humiliation 
and  prayer,  to  petition  that  God  would 
' '  prevent  the  spread  of  errors  in  the 
place,  especially  the  error  of  quakers." 
The  causes  that  had  driven  some  into 


episcopacy  had  led  others  to  join  the 
"Friends."  The  sons  of  Mr.  John 
Hoag  having  embraced  the  doctrines  of 
that  sect,  others  became  interested 
and  meetings  were  held  at  private 
houses.  The  first  of  these  gatherings 
was  at  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Samuel 
Sa}*er.  A  societj"  was  formed,  which, 
in  the  summer  of  1744,  erected  a  meet- 
ing-house on  a  site  nearly  opposite  the 
present  Belleville  church. 

On  Feb.  26th,  1738,  a  council  was 
called,  in  the  west  parish,  to  consider 
' '  the  distressed  state  and  condition  of 
ye  second  church  of  Christ  in  Newbury, 
by  reason  of  the  reverend  pastor,  Mr. 
John  Tufts,  being  charged  by  a  woman, 
or  women,  of  his  indecent  carriage, 
also  of  his  abusive  and  unchristian  be- 
havior towards  them  at  several  times, 
and  so  forth." 

This  council  consisted  of  ten  clergy- 
men and  twenty  delegates.  Mr.  Tufts 
refused  to  unite  with  the  council  and 
opposed  the  swearing  of  witnesses,  and 
immediately  asked  his  dismission,  which 
was  granted,  the  church  refusing  to 
give  him  a  recommendation  elsewhere . 
He  was  succeeded  by  Thomas  Barnard, 
who  was  dismissed  in  1751.  The  Rev. 
Moses  Hale  was  ordained  the  same 
year.  He  married  Mehitable  Dummer, 
and  was  the  only  pastor,  amongst  the 
long  list  of  those  that  have  been  or- 
dained over  this  society,  who  spent  his 
life  among  his  people.  He  died  in 
1779. 

The  meeting-house  on  Pipestave  hill 
had  become  somewhat  dilapidated ;  by 
the  setting  off  of  the  fourth  parish,  it 
was  no  longer  in  a  central  locality ; 
then,  many  objected  to  climbing  the 
long  hill.  As  expensive  repairs  were 
necessary,  it  was  proposed  to  move  the 
building  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  on 


200 


REMINISCENCES 


the  main  road,  at  the  corner  of  the  one 
leading  to  the  river.  This  raised  a 
storm  of  objections,  but  finally,  in  1758, 
the  seventh  year  of  Mr.  Hale's  pas- 
torate, the  plan  was  effected.  The 
house,  which  was  a  good-sized  struc- 
ture, without  a  tower,  was  repaired  and 
remodeled.  The  parsonage,  which  lay 
below  on  Pipestave  hill,  was  retained 
by  the  parish  for  some  years.  It  is 
still  standing  in  good  preservation. 

The  Rev.  True  Kimball  was  settled 
in  1782,  and  dismissed  in  1797.  His 
successor,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Tomb, 
was  ordained  the  next  year.  He  was 
dismissed  in  1808,  the  same  year  that 
Dr.  Woods  left  the  fourth  parish  for 
the  seminaiy  at  Andover.  Great  scan- 
dal had  been  raised  in  the  "parish  re- 
specting Parson  Tomb's  ill  treatment 
of  a  little  girl,  bound  as  a  servant  in 
his  family.  It  was  alleged  that,  being 
unmercifully  whipped  for  every  slight 
offence,  to  screen  herself,  the  child  be- 
came an  adept  at  deceit.  To  punish 
her  for  lying,  the  minister,  it  was  said, 
tied  her  tongue  to  her  great  toe.  Such 
discontent  was  aroused  that  the  rever- 
end gentleman  asked  a  dismission, 
which  was  granted,  though  many  of  the 
society  discredited  the  stories  about 
him.  My  father  would  not  accept  Dr. 
Woods'  ministry  ;  after  the  Slade  meet- 
ing-house at  Byfield  was  closed  he  at- 
tended service  at  the  lower  parish. 

After  Mr.  Tomb's  departure  the 
pulpit  was  for  a  time  supplied  by  a  Mr. 
Hull.  A  part  of  the  society,  in  which 
my  father  was  included,  were  much 
pleased  with  Parson  Hull's  preaching, 
declaring  it  to  be  good  Arminian  doc- 
trine, but  the  more  Calviuistic  portion. 
who  were  a  majorit}-,  pronounced  it 
tame  and  unsound.  Old  Mr.  Ben. 
Poore  (father  of  Dr.  Poore)  in  his  most 


emphatic  manner,  declared,  "  His  name 
is  Hull  and  he  was  hull  indeed."  In 
consequence  Mr.  Hull  did  not  receive  a 
a  call,  and  the  Rev.  Ebenezer  Hubbard 
was  ordained  in  May,  1809.  Persons 
at  that  time  were  assessed  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  gospel  according  to  their 
property.  My  father  had  paid  the 
3'ear's  tax  at  the  lower  parish.  To- 
wards spring,  to  his  surprise,  the  col- 
lector of  the  upper  parish  also  present- 
ed a  bill.  Father  produced  the  one  he 
had  paid,  but  the  collector,  Mr.  Baile}-, 
said  :  k ;  The  law  required  every  one  to 
pay  in  his  own  parish  unless  they  at- 
tended on  the  worship  of  a  different 
sect.  As  the  lower  paiish  was  Congre- 
gationalist,  as  well  as  the  upper,  he 
must  pay  a  tax  to  the  society  in  the 
parish  where  he  resided."  Father  re- 
fused to  comply  with  the  demand,  and 
Mr.  Bailey  took  two  of  our  best  cows 
from  the  barnyard  and  drove  them 
down  the  lane.  Mother  cried,  but 
father  laughed  and  sat  down  to  dinner. 
When  the  meal  was  over  we  saw  the 
cows  standing  b}*  the  cow4yard  bars, 
and  nothing  more  was  done  about  the 
tax  bill.  Uncle  Enoch  Little  invited 
father  to  take  a  seat  in  his  pew  at  the 
Baptist  meeting-house  in  Xew  Rowley, 
which  he  did.  As,  after  Parson  Woods 
left,  the  services  in  our  parish  were  ir- 
regular, mother  or  some  of  the  family 
generally  accompanied  him.  After  a 
while  it  became  the  settled  place  of 
worship,  and,  in  later  years,  my  mother 
united  with  that  church. 

As  the  service  in  Queen  Ann's  Chap- 
el became  gradually  discontinued,  a 
new  Cougregationalist  society  was 
formed  in  that  quarter.  For  a  time, 
with  the  permission  of  the  Episcopal 
society,  they  occupied  the  old  chapel, 
but  after  a  while  a  small,  plain  build 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


201 


ing  was  put  up,  a  little  above  Queen 
Ann's,  and  on  Sept.  1,  1762,  the  Eev. 
Oliver  Noble  was  ordained.  Father 
Noble,  as  he  was  commonly  styled,  was 
a  somewhat  eccentric  character.  With 
a  quick  eye  and  read}'  wit  at  barter  and 
sale,  he  could  turn  an  honest  penny 
with  any  one  ;  and,  as  his  congregation 
was  small,  and  it  was  not  easy  to  raise 
even  the  limited  stipend  to  which  he 
was  entitled,  it  was  convenient  to  eke 
out  a  living  \)\  his  own  exertions. 
Some  few  years  after  his  settlement  his 
wife  died,  and  the  bereaved  husband 
preached  her  funeral  sermon,  which  he 
had  printed.  Stuffing  his  saddle  bags, 
he  mounted  his  old  horse,  known  as 
"Noble's  frame,"  and  proceeded  to 
peddle  his  sermon  over  the  country. 
My  father,  then  a  lad,  in  after  years 
used  to  give  a  laughable  description  of 
his  visit  at  Crane-neck.  He  rode 
rode  up  one  warm  afternoon,  hab- 
ited in  a  long,  flowing,  black  flannel 
gown,  and,  with  tears  and  piteous  sighs, 
told  his  grief,  ending  by  the  presenta- 
tion of  the  sermon,  which  was  pur- 
chased, with  sympathetic  condolence, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  warning  glanc- 
es were  threateningly  cast  to  Jim  and 
the  other  bo}-s  and  girls  who  were 
snickering  in  the  background. 

At  the  time  of  the  depreciation  of 
the  continental  money,  two  gentlemen 
in  Bradford  having  obtained  an  inkling 
of  the  probable  state  of  the  market, 
held  a  consultation  respecting  the  best 
method  of  ridding  themselves  of  a 
quantity  of  bills  which  thecy  held.  It 
was  suggested  b}'  one,  that  they  should 
ride  down  to  Father  Noble's,  and  trade 
off  the  currency  for  some  land  that 
the  clergyman  had  for  sale.  "Grass- 
hopper plains"  was  warm,  diy  land, 
very  suitable  for  early  crops,  and  es- 


pecially good  for  corn.  This  plan  was 
carried  into  effect.  The  Parson  re- 
ceived his  visitors  with  great  urbanity  ; 
he  was  not  the  man  however  to  be  be- 
hindhand in  knowledge  respecting  pub- 
lic events,  or  business  in  general,  and 
the  trick  which  the  gentlemen  inten- 
ded to  play,  was  instantly  divined. 
Though  the  land  on  the  plains  had  all 
the  good  qualities  the  Bradford  man 
had  mentioned,  ever}y  one  at  all  con- 
versant with  that  locality  knows  that 
there  are  several  acres  back  from  the 
river  consisting  of  sandy  knolls,  a 
somewhat  singular  conformation,  which 
are  almost  worthless,  would  scarcely 
subsist  a  small  number  of  the  insects 
from  which  the  plains  derive  their 
name.  The  Parson  at  that  time  had 
quite  a  lot  of  this  land  which  he  was 
desirous  to  put  into  a  more  profitable 
investment ;  he  was  therefore  willing  to 
bargain,  not  too  eager,  but  to  accom- 
modate the  gentlemen,  after  a  time  the 
purchase  was  eifected.  Father  Noble, 
shaking  with  inward  chuckles,  received 
the  condemned  bills,  which  before  the 
news  of  their  loss  of  value  became 
general  he  disposed  of  very  satisfac- 
torily. At  the  time  of  the  purchase 
the  land  was  covered  with  snow,  and 
the  gentlemen  anxious  to  get  rid  of  the 
notes,  took  but  a  cursory  look,  and  had 
not  been  particular  in  enquiries  respect- 
ing it.  As  the  spring  advanced  some- 
how the  story  of  the  sale  became  bruit- 
ed about,  and  the  would  be  biters 
were  informed  that  the}-  had  been  un- 
mercifully bitten.  Accordingly  they 
rode  down  to  take  a  survey  of  the 
land.  Scarcely  liking  the  lay  of  it 
they  went  with  their  protest  to  the 
Parson.  Father  Noble  was  all  fair 
and  square.  "He  should  be  sorry  to 
do  anything  wrong,  he  was  to  exchange 
26 


202 


REMINISCENCES 


the  next  Sunday  with  Parson  Dutch  : 
he  would  remain  in  Bradford  over 
night,  and  Monday  morning  the  gentle- 
men might  call  upon  him  and  talk  the 
matter  over  "  Accordingly,  on  Sun- 
day Parson  Noble  appeared  in  the  pul- 
pit of  the  Bradford  meeting-house. 
The  morning  service  passed  as  usual, 
but  in  the  afternoon  the  congregation 
were  favored  by  a  specimen  of  pulpit 
eloquence  which  caused  a  universal  sen- 
sation. The  house  was  crowded,  and 
knowing  what  was  pending,  an  unusual 
expectancy  was  felt.  The  psalms  and 
prayer  over,  the  preacher  with  peculiar 
emphasis  named  his  text :  ' k  I  have 
bought  a  piece  of  ground,  and  I  must 
needs  go  to  see  it."  To  see  it  was 
the  pith  of  the  discourse,  which  was  so 
apt,  and  the  would  be  deceit  of  the 
complainants  was  so  deftly  shown,  that 
they  turned  all  colors  and  writhed  in 
their  pews,  while  the  rest  of  the  audi- 
ence had  much  ado  to  preserve  the  de- 
corum proper  for  "•  Sabba'  day."  The 
next  morning  the  two  gentlemen  rode 
over  to  the  parsonage.  As  was  cus- 
tomary, Parson  Dutch  produced  the 
liquor  case,  sugar,  hot  water,  pipes  and 
tobacco.  The  quartette  drank  healths, 
smoked,  conversed  upon  the  weather, 
the  crops,  and  the  state  of  the  country, 
but  not  a  lisp  was  made  respecting  the 
land  sale.  Towards  noon  Father  No- 
ble  in  his  most  genial  manner,  with  fer- 
vent wishes  for  the  temporal  and  spirit- 
ual welfare  of  his  friends,  bade  them 
good  morning,  and  wended  his  w&y 
down  the  main  road,  in  -high  esteem 
with  himself  and  his  grasshopper  land 
speculation. 

A  man  like  the  Rev.  Oliver  Noble 
could  not  be  expected  to  remain  in  a 
small  parish  like  that  at  the  Plains, 
neither  was  it  probable  that  as  a  spirit- 


ual guide  he  gave  universal  satisfaction. 
He  resigned  his  charge  April  7,  1784. 
Afterwards  he  was  settled  in  New  Cas- 
tle. N.  H.,  where  he  died  in  1792,  aged 
fifty-six. 

After  his  departure,  preaching  was 
for  a  time  held  irregularly  in  "  Noble's 
meeting-house,"  but  at  length  was 
wholly  discontinued,  and  the  old  build- 
ing fell  into  decay  ;  finally,  one  stormy 
winter  night  it  blew  down. 

In  1807  a  new  society  was  formed  in 
that  locality,  a  new  meeting-house  erect- 
ed on  High  street,  and  the  Rev.  James 
Miltimore  was  settled  in  April.  1808. 

In  1702  the  parish,  afterwards  called 
Byfield,  was  incorporated.  This  was 
taken  from  the  towns  of  Rowley  and 
Newbury,  and  at  first  was  designated 
Rowlbury.  Two  years  later  it  was 
named  Byfield  in  honor  of  Judge  Na- 
thaniel Byfield.  The  first  pastor  of 
the  new  parish  was  the  Rev.  Moses 
Hale ;  he  was  succeeded  by  the  Rev. 
Moses  Parsons,  who  died  in  1783.  The 
Rev.  Elijah  Parish  was  ordained  in 
1787. 

The  pastorate  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Par- 
sons was  memorable  for  a  contest  be- 
tween the  clergyman  and  one  of  the 
church  officers,  Deacon  Benjamin  Col- 
man,  on  the  subject  of  slavery.  At  that 
time  nearly  every  family  owned  one  or 
more  negro  slaves.  My  great-grandfath- 
er Noyes  had  a  man  named  Primus,  of 
whom  the  grandchildren  were  especially 
fond.  He  was  a  church  member  and 
very  much  respected.  As  Dea.  Noyes' 
favorite  servant,  Primus  considered 
himself  somewhat  of  an  important  per- 
sonage, and  always  comported  himself 
with  suitable  dignity.  My  great-grand- 
father Smith  owned  a  black  maid ; 
great-grand  sir  Little  a  man  ;  this  couple 
were  married.  The  husband  usually 


OP   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


203 


came  to  great-grandfather  Smith's  to 
sleep,  but  on  very  pleasant  evenings 
the  wife  would  go  over  to  great-grand- 
sir  Little's  to  visit  her  husband.  The 
agreement  at  their  marriage,  between 
their  owners,  had  been,  if  there  were 
children  to  divide  them.  Two  or  three 
were  born,  but  the}'  were  swept  away 
with  those  of  their  masters,  by  the 
throat  distemper,  the  year  it  made  such 
ravage  in  New  England. 

As  Violet,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parsons's 
woman,  like  most  head  servants  in  a 
large  family,  literally  "ruled  the 
roast,"  being  a  perfect  autocrat  in  the 
kitchen,  and  a  presiding  genius  in  every 
department  of  the  household,  holding 
an  affectionate  but  unquestioned  sway 
over  the  bevy  of  bright,  roguish  boys 
that  were  reared  in  the  parsonage,  the 
zealous  deacon  could  not  have  founded 
his  complaint  upon  any  but  conscien- 
tious scruples.  The  principle  of  slave- 
ry was  the  sin  against  which  he  con- 
tended, thus  unwittingly  becoming  pio- 
neer in  a  cause  which  has  produced 
such  momentous  results.  Church  meet- 
ing after  church  meeting  was  held. 
The  deacon  was  suspended  for  indecor- 
ous language  respecting  his  pastor,  and 
the  discussion  continued  until  after  the 
clergyman's  decease,  when  at  a  church 
meeting  on  the  26th  of  October,  1785, 
Deacon  Colman,  after  having  acknowl- 
edged, "that  in  his  treatment  of  the 
Kev.  Moses  Parsons,  the  late  worthy 
pastor  of  the  church,  he  urged  his  ar- 
guments against  the  slaver}'  of  the  Af- 
ricans with  vehemence  and  asperity, 
without  showing  a  due  concern  for  his 
character  and  usefulness  as  an  elder, 
or  the  peace  and  edicfiation  of  the 
church,"  he  was  restored  to  the  church 
and  the  deacouship. 

In  1762   an  academy   building  was 


erected,  and  a  committee  chosen  in  By- 
field  parish  to  appoint  a  grammar  school 
master,  according  to  the  will  of  Gov. 
Dummer.  The  academy  was  opened 
on  Monday,  Feb.  27,  1763.  The  Rev. 
Moses  Parsons  preached  a  sermon  on 
the  occasion  from  the  text,  "  The 
liberal  soul  deviseth  liberal  things." 
The  first  preceptor,  as  previously  sta- 
ted, was  Mr.  Samuel  Moody.  The 
school,  by  the  Governor's  will,  was 
made  free  to  the  boys  of  the  parish  ; 
those  from  abroad  paid  the  usual  tuition. 
This  academy  immediately  took  rank 
with  the  first  in  the  country  —  a  repu- 
tation which  has  been  ably  sustained. 

April  27,  1778,  the  inhabitants  of 
Byfield  were  startled  by  a  phenomenon 
usually  termed  the  "  Flying  Giant." 
The  following  description  is  from  the 
diary  of  Deacon  Daniel  Chute  : 

"Yesterday,  being  the  Lord's  day, 
the  first  Sunday  after  Easter,  about 
five  of  the  clock  in  the  p.  m.,  a  most 
terrible,  and  as  most  men  do  conceive 
supernatural  thing  took  place.  A  form 
as  of  a  giant,  I  suppose  rather  under 
than  over  twenty  feet  high,  walked 
through  the  air  from  somewhere  nigh 
the  Governor's  school,  where  it  was 
first  spied  by  some  boys,  till  it  past 
the  meeting-house,  where  Mr.  Whit- 
tain,  who  was  driving  home  his  cows, 
saw  it,  as  well  as  the  cows  also,  which 
ran  violently  bellowing.  Sundry  on 
the  whole  road  from  the  meeting-house 
to  Deacon  Scarles'  house,  saw  and 
heard  it,  till  it  vanished  from  sight  nigh 
Hunslow's  hill,  as  Deacon  Searles  saw. 
It  strode  so  fast  as  a  good  horse  might 
gallop,  and  two  or  three  feet  above  the 
ground,  and  what  more  than  all  we  ad- 
mired, it  went  through  walls  and  fences 
as  one  goes  through  water,  yet  were 
the}'  not  broken  or  overthrown.  It 
was  black,  as  it  might  be  dressed  in 
cloth  indeed,  yet  were  we  so  terrified 
that  none  observed  what  manner  if  at 
all  it  was  habited.  It  made  continu- 


204 


REMINISCENCES 


ally  a  tending  scream,  '  hoo,  hoo,'  so 
that  some  women  fainted." 

The  majority  of  the  people,  the  Rev. 
Moses  Parsons  included,  believed  this 
spectre  to  be  the  devil  taking  a  walk  to 
oversee  his  mundane  affairs.  Deacon 
Benjamin  Colman  published  an  ac- 
count of  this  occurrence  in  the  Essex 
Journal  and  New  Hampshire  Packet. 
This  was  in  the  midst  of  his  controver- 
sy with  Mr.  Parsons  on  the  slavery 
question,  and  he  attributed  the  diabol- 
ical visitation  to  the  heinous  sin  of 
slave-holding  by  the  pastor  of  the  par- 
ish, followed  by  quaint  theological  spec- 
ulations, in  the  deacon's  strong  and 
fearless  style. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

In  1 725  the  Third  parish  in  Newbury 
erected  a  meeting-house  at  the  water 
side,  fronting  on  Fish  street.  Many 
entertained  serious  doubts  of  the  desir- 
ability of  this  church.  Mr.  William 
Moody,  writing  to  his  brother,  Judge 
Sewell  in  Boston,  says:  "Our  people 
at  towne  are  going  to  build  another 
meeting-house,  but  intend  to  set  it  so 
nigh  to  Mr.  Toppan's,  that  I  fear  it 
will  make  great  contention." 

The  new  house  was  dedicated  the 
20th  of  June;  the  Rev.  John  Tufts 
preached  the  sermon.  On  January  19, 
1726,  the  Rev.  John  Lowell  was  or- 
dained, the  sermon  was  by  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Foxcroft  of  Boston. 

The  Lowles  or  Lowells  are  a  very 
ancient  family,  dating  back  to  the 
reign  of  Richard  the  Second.  Mr.  Per- 
cival  Lowle,  born  in  Yardley  county, 
"Worcester,  a  merchant  of  Bristol,  Eng- 


land, in  1639,  with  his  two  sons,  John 
and  Richard,  came  to  Newbury,  where 
John  married  his  last  wife,  Naomi  Syl- 
vester ;  their  youngest  son,  Ebenezer. 
went  to  Boston  and  became  a  mer- 
chant :  he  married  Elisabeth  Shale : 
their  oldest  son,  the  Rev.  John  Lowell. 
was  born  in  Boston,  March  14,  1704 ; 
Dec.  23, 1725,  he  married  Sarah  Champ- 
ney.  After  his  ordination,  Parson 
Lowell  commenced  housekeeping  on 
Greenleaf's  lane,  now  State  street. 
After  the  clergyman's  decease,  the  es- 
tate having  been  purchased  by  Mr.  Na- 
thaniel Tracy  for  the  site  of  a  new 
mansion,  the  house  was  moved  to  Tem- 
ple street.  Two  sons  were  born  to  the 
young  couple  ;  one  died  in  infancj*,  the 
other,  the  distinguished  Judge  Lowell, 
and  his  noted  descendants,  have  a  world 
wide  reputation. 

The  posterity  of  the  other  children 
of  John  and  Richard  Lowle  are  still 
numerous  within  the  precincts  of  Old 
Newbury  and  the  towns  adjacent,  prom- 
inent and  respected  citizens,  while  oth- 
ers of  equal  worth  are  settled  in  differ- 
ent sections  of  the  country. 

Both  Parson  and  Madam  Lowell 
were  assiduous  in  advancing  the  spirit- 
ual and  intellectual  welfare  of  the  par- 
ish. 

Notwithstanding  the  expense  of  build- 
ing a  new  meeting-house,  the  parish 
duplicated  the  town's  appropriation  for 
educational  purposes,  and  in  1731  hired 
Mr.  John  Woodbridge  to  teach  Latin 
to  the  youth  of  the  parish,  at  sixt}- 
pounds  a  year ;  scholars  out  of  the 
parish  were  to  pay  fourpeuce  or  six 
cents  a  week. 

At  that  period  the  minister's  lady 
was  preeminently  the  head  of  feminine 
society.  Her  position  was  much  more 
marked,  and  her  duties  far  more  on- 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


205 


erous  than  at  present.  As  chief  lady 
in  the  parish,  and  mistress  of  a  house- 
hold distinguished  for  hospitality,  Mad- 
am Lowell  won  encomiums  from  old 
and  3'oung,  rich  and  poor.  Possessing 
tact,  quick  perception,  and  decision  of 
character,  united  to  great  skill  and  no- 
tability in  domestic  affairs,  with  rare 
culture  and  accomplishments  for  those 
days,  her  precept  and  example  was  well 
calculated  to  raise  the  standard  of  fe- 
male character  in  her  husband's  parish. 
My  great-grandfather  Johnson  and  his 
wife  held  Parson  and  Madam  Lowell  in 
the  most  affectionate  esteem  and  rever- 
ence. Called  to  the  ministry  a  few 
years  later  than  Mr.  Lowell,  Mr.  John- 
son often  spoke  of  the  interest  mani- 
fested and  the  assistance  rendered  him 
by  his  pastor  while  he  was  pursuing 
his  studies.  Madam  Johnson,  the 
daughter  of  Dr.  Humphrey  Bradstreet, 
though  3'ounger,  was  a  dear  friend  of 
Madam  Lowell.  I  have  frequently 
heard  my  grandmother  Little  speak  of 
the  gratitude  her  mother  often  ex- 
pressed for  Madam  Lowell's  advice 
and  s}Tmpathy,  when,  young  and  inex- 
perienced, she  assumed  the  responsible 
position  of  a  clergyman's  wife.  Mad- 
am Lowell  died  in  1756  ;  my  great  grand- 
father was  one  of  the  pall  bearers.  In 
those  days  it  was  customary  at  the 
funeral  of  persons  of  note,  to  present 
in  addition  to  the  usual  crape  bands 
and  silk  gloves,  a  gold  ring  as  a  memo- 
rial of  the  departed.  My  grandfather's 
mourning  ring  descended  to  me.  It  is 
a  thick,  plain  ring  of  the  old  fashioned 
yellow  gold  ;  on  the  outside  is  engraved 
the  then  usual  insignia  of  death,  a  skull 
and  cross  bone ;  within  is  inscribed : 
"Sarah  Lowell  ob.  28  of  June,  1756, 
JE.  52."  The  Rev.  John  Tucker  was 
also  a  pall  bearer,  and  a  similar  ring 


has  been  preserved  by  his  descend- 
ants. 

Parson  Lowell  married  as  a  second 
wife,  Elisabeth,  widow  of  the  Rev. 
William  A.  Whipple,  of  Hampton 
Falls.  Mr.  Lowell  died  15th  of  May 
1767,  in  his  64th  year.  His  loss  was 
keenly  felt  by  the  bereaved  parish. 
The  Rev.  John  Tucker  in  the  sermon 
preached  at  the  funeral,  says  of  him, 
' '  He  was  endowed  with  good  natural 
powers,  which  he  improved  by  study, 
under  the  advantages  of  a  liberal  ed- 
ucation. He  was  not  only  acquainted 
with  those  polite  arts,  and  sciences, 
which  distinguished  him  as  a  scholar 
and  a  gentleman,  but  was  well  furnish- 
ed with  that  kind  of  knowledge,  which 
was  requisite  to  forming  his  character, 
and  enabling  him  while  young,  to  ap- 
pear with  advantage  as  a  minister  of 
the  gospel.  In  his  domestic  and  social 
connections  and  behavior ;  in  his  pri- 
vate conversation,  both  as  a  Christian 
and  a  minister,  he  maintained  a  good 
reputation.  He  was  a  lover  of  good 
men  though  of  different  denominations 
and  differing  sentiments,  and  much 
given  to  hospitality." 

Over  the  fire-place  in  the  dining 
room  of  Parson  Lowell's  residence  was 
a  painted  panel  representing  a  group 
of  clergymen  seated  around  a  table,  on 
which  were  a  punch  bowl  and  tobacco 
dish.  Above  this  he  had  inscribed  in 
Latin  the  motto  "In  essentials,  unit}' ; 
in  non-essentials  liberty,  in  all  things 
charit}T." 


206 


REMENTSCEXCES 


The   arms   of  Lowle,   Somersetshire 
and  Yard  ley,  are  : 


SA,  A  HAND  COUPED  AT  THE  WRIST,  GRASPING  THREE 
DARTS,  ONE  IN  PALE  AW  TWO  IN  SALTD3E  AZ. 
CREST— A  STAG'S  HEAD  EMBOSSED  OR,  BE- 
TWEEN THE    ALTIRES  A  PHEON  AZ. 

Two  candidates  supplied  the  pulpit 
of  the  Third  church  for  several  months, 
the  Rev..  Christopher  B.  Marsh  of  Bos- 
ton and  Thomas  Carey  of  Charlestown. 
Both  of  these  young  gentlemen  were 
graduates  of  Harvard,  but  Mr.  Marsh 
had  embraced  more  rigid  —  in  the  par- 
lance of  the  time,  "  Hopkinsian"  views 
—  while  Mr.  Carey  followed  in  the 
footsteps  of  the  fathers.  Mr.  Carey, 
having  received  the  votes  of  two  thirds 
of  the  parish,  was  ordained  on  the  llth 
of  May,  1768.  The  other  third  amic- 
ably separated  from  the  Third  parish, 
receiving  their  share  of  the  church 
plate,  and  formed  a  new  society.  They 
erected  a  meeting-house  on  Titcomb 
street,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Marsh  was 
ordained  the  19th  of  October,  1768. 
He  died  in  1773,  and  was  succeeded 
by  the  Rev.  Samuel  Spring  in  1777. 

Parson  Care}'  was  stricken  with  pal- 
sy after  the  morning  service  on  Sunday, 
March  9,  1788,  and  a  colleague  was 
appointed.  The  Rev.  John  Andrews, 
born  at  Hiugharn,  March  3,  1764 ; 


graduated  at  Harvard  in  1786  ;  mar- 
ried, Sept.  8,  1788,  Margaret,  oldest 
daughter  of  Rev.  Prof.  Edward  and 
Margaret  Wigglesworth  ;  was  ordained 
over  the  First  society,  Newburyport. 
Dec.  10,  1788  ;  received  the  degree  of 
D.  D.  at  Harvard  College  in  1824  ;  re- 
signed his  pastoral  charge  May  1,  1830. 
He  died  in  August,  1845. 

Through  the  preaching  of  Whitefield 
and  the  influence  of  the  ' '  great  awak- 
ening." several  persons  became  dissatis- 
fied with  the  doctrines  in  which  they  had 
been  reared.  These ''new  schemers" 
were  vehemently  opposed  by  Mr.  Top- 
pan,  and  as  firmly  by  Mr.  Lowell,  both 
denouncing  their  meetings  as  '  'irregular 
and  disorderly."  Rev.  John  Tucker 
having  been  settled  colleague  with  Mr. 
Toppan,  the  opposition  strengthened, 
and  in  1743  the  "Separatists"  held 
their  first  public  assembly  in  a  barn 
near  the  upper  green,  in  Oldtown.  A 
small  house  of  worship  was  soon  after 
erected  on  Norfolk,  now  High  street, 
just  below  Federal  street,  Mr.  Joseph 
Adams,  a  young  graduate  of  Harvard 
University,  officiating  as  minister.  The 
"Separatists"  having  anathematized 
the  parent  church  as  "Old  Dagon," 
in  retaliation  the  new  one  received  the 
soubriquet  of  "  Young  Dagon."  The 
new  house,  which  was  never  entirely 
finished,  blew  down  in  a  severe  thun- 
derstorm, a  catastrophe  that  brought 
exceeding  satisfaction  to  the  opposition, 
who  piously  regarded  it  as  a  just  judg- 
ment sent  by  the  indignant  hand  of  an 
outraged  Deity. 

On  January  3,  1746,  nineteen  per- 
sons withdrew  from  the  First  church 
and  formed  a  new  church.  Thirty- 
eight,  three  years  previous,  had  with- 
drawn from  communion  with  the  Third 
church.  As  their  petition  for  disrnis- 


OF   A 


207 


sion  from  that  church  and  a  recom- 
mendation to  the  new  church  was  de- 
.nied,  they  were  admitted  to  that  body 
without  a  recommendation.  On  the 
22d  of  the  same  month,  acting  on  the 
advice  of  Whitefield,  the  "  Separatists" 
extended  a  call  to  the  Rev.  Jonathan 
Parsons  to  become  their  pastor.  This 
invitation  was  accepted,  and  the  instal- 
lation took  place  on  the  19th  of  March. 
This  church,  not  being  yet  united  to 
a  Presbytery,  was  styled  "Indepen- 
dent." The  installation  services  were 
conducted  entirely  by  the  people 'and 
the  pastor-elect.  Having  mutually 
pledged  themselves  to  support  each 
other  in  the  work  of  the  gospel,  Mr. 
Parsons  offered  prayer  and  preached  a 
sermon.  On  the  7th  of  April  the  or- 
ganization of  the  church  was  completed 
by  the  choice  of  six  ruling  elders,  and 
the  September  following  it  united  with 
the  Presbytery  of  Boston.  Much 
trouble  arose  respecting  the  assessment 
of  taxes,  as  the -first  and  third  parishes 
insisted  upon  the  right  to  tax  the  se- 
ceders.  An  appeal]  was  made  by  the 
Presbyterians  to  Gov.  Shirley,  and  va- 
rious other  methods  used,  for  years,  to 
obtain  redress,  but  without  effect,  until 
the  different  societies  became  distinct. 
corporations,  which  act  was  passed 
Feb.  22,  1794.  The  Presbyterian  so- 
ciety erected  the  church  on  Federal 
street  in  1756.  On  Sunday  morning, 
Sept.  30,  1770,  George  Whitefield  died, 
at  the  residence  of  Rev.  Jonathan  Par- 
sons, and  his  remains  were  interred  un- 
der the  pulpit  of  that  church.  Mr.  Par- 
sons died  in  1776,  and  the  Rev.  John 
Murray  was  ordained  in  1781.  He 
died  in  1793,  and  was  succeeded  by  the 
Rev.  Daniel  Dana,  Nov.  19,  1794. 

January  28,  1764,  that  part  of  New- 
bury  now  called  Newburyport  was  in- 


corporated as  a  separate  town,  and  the 
Third  church  of  Newbury  became  the 
First  of  Newburyport.  As  the  old 
meeting-house  on  Fish  street  had  be- 
come time-worn,  and  too  small  to  ac- 
commodate the  large  congregation,  in 
1801  the  church  on  Pleasant  street  was 
erected.  This  edifice,  built  by  Daniel 
Spofford  and  Amos  Palmer,  was  the 
most  splendid  in  the  vicinity,  and  a 
model  of  architectural  beauty.  Its 
erection  created  a  great  sensation. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Carey  was  able  to  preach 
the  last  sermon  in  the  old  house,  which 
was  on  Sept.  27th.  This  sermon 
showed  that,  though  weak  in  body,  the 
clergyman's  mind  was  wholly  unim- 
paired. 

The  next  morning  a  vast  crowd  as- 
sembled to  witness  the  demolition  of 
' '  ye  ancient  meeting-'us."  I  have  often 
heard  David  Emery,  then  a  lad  of  six- 
teen, and  my  cousin,  Sophronia  Pea- 
bod}*,  describe  the  scene.  The  sup- 
ports, excepting  at  one  corner,  having 
been  removed,  a  hawser  was  placed 
around  the  post,  and  a  band  of  sailors, 
with  "  a  long  pull,  a  strong  pull,  and  a 
pull  all  together,"  brought  the  large 
building  to  the  ground,  amidst  clouds 
of  dust  and  the  huzzas  of  the  multi- 
tude. Gen.  Peabody  entertained  the 
ladies  who  had  gathered  in  the  cham- 
bers of  his  store  with  wines  and 
cordials  from  the  cellar,  and  my  cousin, 
then  a  child,  thought  pulling  down 
meeting-houses  a  delightful  event, 
which  she  wished  might  happen  every 
day. 

The  Third  church  in  Newbury  from 
the  first  was  progressive.  In  1750 
they  voted,  nemine  contradicente,  that 
"the  scriptures  be  read  in  publick  on 
the  Lord's  day."  Reading  from  the 
Bible  in  the  pulpit  was  not  customarv 


208 


REMINISCENCES 


amongst  the  first  congregations.  I 
never  remember  hearing  a  chapter  read 
until  Parson  Woods  was  ordained, 
and  he  only  flid  so  occasionally.  In 
1769  the  church  at  Oldtown  voted  to 
introduce  the  Scriptures  at  public  wor- 
ship. When  I  first  went  to  meeting, 
Watts'  psalms  and  hymns  were  in  use 
and  they  had  been  generall}'  adopted 
by  -the  churches. 

In  1794  an  organ  was  placed  in  the 
First  church  in  Newbur}*port.  It  was, 
for  those  days,  a  large  and  handsome 
instrument.  Round  the  top  of  the 
pipes  were  festoons  of  crimson  silk ; 
above  them,  in  large  gold  letters,  was 
the  motto,  "  Praise  Him  with  Organs." 
This  remarkable  innovation  greatly 
shocked  the  more  rigid,  and  the  new 
instrument  became  the  chief  topic  of 
conversation  in  town  and  country,  in 
the  commercial  mart,  and  by  the  do- 
mestic hearth.  It  was  denominated  a 
"papistical  device  —  a  popish  fiddle." 
Much  was  said  about  the  "  tooting 
tub,"  and  ;  •  sarving  the  Divil  on  an 
orgin,"  while  the  Rev.  Samuel  Spring 
discoursed  most  disdainfully  respecting 
"  our  neighbor's  box  of  whistles." 
Notwithstanding  the  opposition,  the  or- 
gan retained  its  place,  sending  forth 
melody  Sunday  after  Sunday,  in  the 
old  meeting-house,  and.  with  the  bell 
and  weathercock,  was  transferred  to 
the  new  church.  The  interior  of  this 
building  has  received  but  little  altera- 
tions. The  front  gallery  pews  were 
square,  and  when  first  erected  the  pul- 
pit was  higher  than  now,  and  sur- 
mounted by  the  sounding-board,  then 
considered  necessaiy  for  a  speaker. 
This  pulpit  was  reached  by  stairs  lead- 
ing from  the  back  porch,  and  the  plat- 
form beneath  it  was  railed  off  like  an 
altar  ;  two  gates  opened  into  this  com- 


partment, to  the  right  and  left ;  with- 
in, in  front,  was  the  communion  table, 
behind  it  stood  three  large  arm  chairs. 
with  crimson  seats.  The  pulpit  cush- 
ion was  of  crimson  velvet.  From  the 
centre  of  the  ceiling  depended  a  large 
glass  chandelier  for  wax  candles.  It  is 
a  thousand  pities  this  had  not  been 
preserved,  as  "  a  thing  of  beauty  is  a 
joy  forever." 

In  those  da}rs  evening  services  were 
rare  events.  When  Dr.  Parish  was  or- 
dained, the  parish  in  common  with  ev- 
ery other  was  so  much  divided  on  doc- 
trinal points,  that  much  vexation  and 
dela}-  occurred.  It  was  not  until 
the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  the 
council  had  been  convened  that  the  or- 
dination services  took  place.  The  par- 
ish ever  after  celebrated  the  anniver- 
sary of  his  ordination  by  an  evening 
meeting.  On  one  occasion  I  accompa- 
nied Mrs.  Moses  Colman.  She  took  a 
pair  of  tall  brass  candlesticks  and 
mould  candles  with  her.  The  candle- 
sticks were  placed  on  the  ledge  on  the 
front  of  the  square  pew,  and  the  can- 
dles lighted  that  we  might  see  the 
h}-mns.  Nearly  every  pew  was  similar- 
ly lighted,  there  were  candlebra  on  the 
pulpit,  and  candles  on  the  communion 
table  and  in  the  singing  seats ;  a  few 
in  tin  sconces  were  hung  along  the 
walls,  still  the  house  was  not  very 
brilliantly  illuminated.  The  Pleasant 
street  meetinghouse  was  dedicated  in 
October.  The  sermon  was  preached 
by  the  Rev.  John  Andrews  :  the  music 
was  unusually  fine  ;  altogether  it  was  a 
great  occasion.  A  dense  mass  of  hu- 
man beings  filled  every  available  space 
of  the  large  church ;  the  ladies  were 
resplendent  with  elegance,  mam'  stran- 
gers were  present,  and  the  dignitaries 
of  the  'town  and  parish ;  the  day  was 


OF   A 


209 


a   festal    one    throughout    the    place. 

Upon  their  removal  to  "  Port,"  both 
Gen.  Peabody  and  Col.  Bartlett  joined 
the  first  society,  but  in  a  few  years,  as 
their  wives  inclined  to  the  more  Calvin- 
istic  preaching  at  the  Old  South,  pews 
were  taken  there.  Both  ladies  soon  af- 
ter became  communicants,  and  all  the 
Peabody  children,  with  the  exception 
of  the  youngest,  who  was  born  in  the 
District  of  Columbia,  were  baptized  at 
this  font. 

Sophronia  Peabod}"  accompanied  her 
uncle  Leonard  Smith  to  the  dedication. 
Mr.  Smith  had  purchased  the  upper 
corner  wall  pew  on  the  side  towards 
Green  street,  and  to  accommodate  his 
large  family  two  pews  had  been  let  into 
one.  This  pew  was  so  crowded,  Fronie 
and  her  cousin,  Sophy  Smith,  were 
were  perched  on  the  window  seat,  where 
they  vastly  enjoyed  the  scene. 

The  new  church  gave  great  satisfac- 
tion, and  for  several  years  was  crowded 
every  Sunday.  This  societ}7  counted 
amongst  its  members  man}r  eminent 
persons.  Patrick  and  Nathaniel  C. 
Tracy,  Judge  Parsons,  and  his  law 
students,  amongst  which  was  John 
Quincy  Adams,  the  discarded  lover  of 
Miss  Mary  Fraiser,  the  daughter  of 
Moses  Fraiser,  esq.,  whose  pew  was  in 
close  contiguity,  to  that  occupied  by 
young  Adams,  whom  the  Fraiser  fami- 
ly did  not  consider  a  sufficiently  bril- 
liant parti  for  the  lovely  Mary,  then 
one  of  the  celebrated  beauties  of  the 
day.  There  were  the  Carters,  Daven- 
ports, John  Bromfield,  the >  Cross  fami- 
lies, Michael  Hodge,  Nicholas  iBrown, 
Col.  Edward  Wigglesworth,  Joseph 
Marquand,  Gen.  Jonathan  Jackson, 
David  Mood}',  Jonathan  Greele}',  Judge 
Greenleaf  and  his  son  Col.  Greenleaf, 
Major  Joshua  Greenleaf,  the  Balches, 


Stones,  Johnsons,  Noyeses,  Toppans, 
Coffins,  Jenkins,  Mr.  Prout,  Mr.  Israel 
Young,  Dr.  Micajah  Sawyer,  Captain 
Hudson,  and  many  otlier  distinguished 
persons  and  families. 

The  triangular  piece  of  land  on  which 
the  old  meeting-house  stood,  was  sold 
to  the  town  for  eight  thousand  dollars. 
The  citizens  subscribed  thirty-five  hun- 
dred of  this  sum.  From  this  land 
Market  square  was  formed,  the  well 
dug,  and  the  town  pump  placed  very 
nearly  on  the  site  of  the  pulpit  of  the 
old  meeting-house. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

In  1729  the  inhabitants  of  the  upper 
part  of  the  second  parish  in  Newbury 
petitioned  the  General  Court  to  divide 
the  west  parish  into  two  precincts.  A 
map  drawn  that  year  shows  that  there 
were  one  hundred  and  eighty-four  hous- 
es in  the  parish,  and  the  families  num- 
bered one  hundred  and  eight}7- three. 

March  20,  1781,  the  second  parish 
voted  "  to  desire  the  General  Court  to 
confirm  the  setting  off  of  the  fourth  par- 
ish from  the  second,"  which  was  done  by 
a  committee,  February  22,  according  to 
a  vote  passed  by  the  second  parish, 
January  6th,  consenting  to  the  division. 

April  15th,  1729,  the  inhabitants  of 
the  upper  part  of  the  west  parish,  made 
an  agreement  "  to  build  a  meeting-house 
fifty  feet  by  thirty-eight,  and  twenty 
foot  stud."  This  was  the  old  meeting- 
house on  Meeting-house  hill.  The 
Rev.  William  Johnson  was  ordained 
over  the  new  parish,  September  15th, 
1731. 

The  Johnsons  are  an  old  English 
27 


210 


REMIXISCEXCES 


family.  The  first  ancestor  on  record 
was  Maurice  Johnson,  esq.,  M.  P.  for 
Stamford  in  1523.  He  had  two  sons, 
Robert  and  Francis. 

Robert  Johnson,  archdeacon  of  Lei- 
cester, married  Maria  ;  died  in 

1625,  leaving  one  son,  Abraham,  born 
in  1577. 

Abraham  Johnson  married  Anna 
Meadows  in  1597 ;  they  had  one  son. 
Isaac.  Mrs.  Johnson  died  young,  and 
in  1602,  Abraham  Johnson  married  a  | 
second  wife,  Cicerly  Chadderton,  by 
whom  he  had  eleven  children :  Lau-  j 
rence,  Maurice,  Robert,  William,  Ed- 
ward, Ezekiel,  Nicholas,  Francis,  Hen- 
ry, Cicerly,  and  Elisabeth.  Mr.  John- 
sou  removed  with  his  family  from  Mil- 
ton Bryan  to  Canterbury-,  country  of 
Kent. 

Isaac  Johnson,  the  son  of  Abraham 
Johnson  by  his  first  wife,  in  1623  was 
united  in  marriage  with  the  Lady  Ara- 
bella Piennes.  This  couple  with  two 
sons  by  the  second  wife,  William  and  j 
Edward,  emigrated  from  Canterbury 
to  America.  The  early  death  of  Lacly 
Arabella  Johnson,  which  cast  so  deep 
a  gloom  over  that  infant  colony  in  the 
wilderness,  has  become  indelibly  inter 
woven  in  the  carry  history  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts settlement. 

William  Johnson  settled  in  Charles- 
town  in  1630,  and  his  brother  Edward 
in  Woburn.  William  Johnson  in  1633, 
married  Elisabeth  Storey  of  Charles- 
town  :  they  had  five  children :  Rahan- 
na,  Elisabeth,  Joseph,  Jonathan  and 
Nathaniel. 

Nathaniel  was  married  in  1668,  to 
Joanna  Long  of  Charlestown ;  they 
had  three  children  :  Nathaniel,  William 
and  John. 

William  Johnson,  son  of  Nathaniel 
and  Joanna  Johnson,  came  from  Charles- 


town  to  Newbury  in  1698.  Nov.  9th. 
1702,  he  married  Martha,  third  daugh- 
ter of  Captain  Daniel  Pierce  of  the 
"  Pierce  "  farm,  Newbury.  They  had 
six  children  :  Isaac,  William,  born  May 
31,  1706;  Eleazer,  Elisabeth,  Martha 
and  Lydia.  William  Johnson  died  in 
1741,  aged  70  years. 

William,  son  of  William  and  Martha 
(Pierce)  Johnson,  graduated  at  Har- 
vard in  1727.  Soon  after  his  ordina- 
tion, he  married  Betty,  daughter  of  Dr. 
Humphrey  Bradstreet.  They  had  nine 
children :  Sarah,  Martha.  Mary,  Do- 
rothy, Anna,  Hannah.  William,  Daniel 
and  Bradstreet. 

Sarah  married  Mr.  David  Chase, 
who  resided  on  his  farm  near  the  pres- 
ent Rocks  bridge. 

Martha  became  the  wife  of  Dr.  Wil- 
liam Hale  of  Old  Rowley. 

Mary  manned  nry  grandfather.  Jo- 
seph Little. 

Dolly  was  twice  married ;  first  to 
William  Folsom,  of  Newmarket,  N.H., 
who  died  young ;  second  to  Squire 
Blanchard  of  Chester,  N.  H. 

Anna  married  Dr.  Tennej*  of  Brad- 
ford ;  he  died  the  second  year  of  his 
marriage  from  the  small  pox,  which  he 
took  in  performing  the  duties  of  his 
profession.  He  was  a  most  promising 
young  man,  and  bis  de/ith  was  sincerely 
mourned  throughout  the  community. 
The  widow  Tenney  married  Mr.  Joseph 
Moody  of  Amesbury. 

Hannah  married  Master  Simeon 
Chase. 

William,  Daniel  and  Bradstreet  set- 
tled in  business  in  Newbun 'port.  Wil- 
liam married  Temperance  Little  ;  their 
two  daughters,  Temperance  and  Mary. 
died  unmarried.  The  onh*  son,  Wil- 
liam, went  to  Amesbuiy  and  engaged 
in  the  carriage  business. 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN". 


211 


Daniel  married  Hannah  Woodman 
of  Newbury,  June,  1764 ;  the}-  had 
two  daughters,  Hannah,  who  married 
Mr.  Stephen  Frothingham,  and  Betse}', 
who  married  Mr.  Thomas  Beck,  and 
went  to  Portland,  Me.  Daniel  John- 
son's second  wife  was  Mary  Hortou, 
to  whom  he  was  married  Feb.,  1787. 

Bradstreet  Johnson  married  Susan- 
na Brown,  and  died  childless. 

Madam  Betty  Johnson  died  August 
2d,  1756,  in  the  43d  }'ear  of  her  age. 
Parson  Johnson  married  a  second  wife, 
a  widow  Sargent,  from  Amesbury.  He 
died  February  22d,  1772,  in  the  40th 
A'ear  of  his  ministry,  aged  6G  years. 
The  stone  erected  b}*  the  parish  to  his 
memory  bears  this  inscription  : 

•'  He  was  a  gentleman  of  good  under- 
standing, of  uniform  piety  and  vir- 
tue, of  a  very  amiable  temper,  ten- 
der and  affectionate  in  his  family 
connections,  a  benevolent  and  faith- 
ful friend.'.' 

Parson  Johnson  was  reverenced  and 
beloved  in  an  unusual  degree  both  in 
his  family  and  the  parish.  My  mother 
was  his  especial  pet ;  she  could  recol- 
lect standing  between  her  grandsire's 
knees,  while  he  taught  her  the  alphabet, 
and  though  only  five  years  old  at  his 
decease,  she  could  read  the  Bible  quite 
fluently. 

Eleazer,  my  great-grandfather's 
youngest  brother,  married  Elisabeth 
Pearce.  They  had  nine  children, 
Eleazer,  William  Pearce,  Nicholas,  Jo- 
seph, Philip,  Jane,  Sarah,  Elisabeth  and 
Martha.  Mrs.  Johnson  died  soon 
after  the  birth  of  Martha,  and  Mr. 
Johnson  in  1766,  was  married  to  Sa- 
rah Bailey.  They  had  one  son,  John 
Bailey  Johnson.  M}-  great  uncle, 
Eleazer  Johnson,  died  in  1792. 

Eleazer  Johnson  jr.,  married  Han- 
nah Greenleaf  in  1777.  Their  children 


were  Eleazer,  Joseph,  Hannah,  Abi- 
gail and  Jacob  Greenleaf. 

William  Pearce  Johnson  married 
Sarah  Greenleaf  Oct.  1770.  Their 
children  were  Mary,  Catharine,  Wil- 
liam Pearce,  Sarah,  Eleazer  4th,  and 
Jonathan  Greenleaf. 

Nicholas,  the  third  son,  married 
Mary,  daughter  of  Matthew  and  Anna 
Greenleaf  Perkins,  Dec.  1776.  Their 
children  were  Nicholas,  Anna  Green- 
leaf,  Mary  Perkins,  Elisabeth,  Sarah, 
Philip,  Abel  Greenleaf,  Benjamin 
Greenleaf,  and  Henry. 

Joseph,  the  fourth  son,  married 
Elisabeth  Dole.  Their  children  were 
Joseph,  born  1769,  died  1785  ;  Richard, 
born  1771,  lost  at  sea  with  Capt. 
Whitcomb  and  crew  in  1718  ;  Eleazer, 
born  May  9th,  1773,  married  Sarah 
Newman  June  llth,  1797;  Elisabeth, 
born  July  1775,  married  Richard  Dole. 
Philip,  the  youngest  son,  married 
Dolly  Noyes  in  1773.  Their  children 
were  Doll}*,  Sally  and  Philip. 

Jane,  the  oldest  daughter,  married 
Nathaniel  Nowell ;  Sarah,  Phineas 
Parker  ;  and  Martha,  Capt.  Desaunette. 
Elisabeth,  my  great-grandfather  John- 
son's oldest  sister,  married  Isaac  Hall. 
Their  daughter,  Hannah  Hall,  married 
Edmund  Bartlet ;  their  children  were 
William,  and  Hannah  who  died  young. 
Mr.  William  Bartlet  married  the 
widow  Betty  (Coombs)  Lascom,  the 
daughter  of  Philip  and  Lydia  Johnson 
Coombs  ;  Martha  the  second  sister,  mar- 
ried Ralph  Cross;  the  youngest,  Lydia, 
Philip  Coombs,  who  came  from  the  is- 
land of  Guernsey,  and  was  the  first  of 
the  family  in  Newburyport ;  it  was 
their  daughter  Betty  who  married 
William  Bartlet. 

Isaac  Johnson,  the  first  of  the  name 
in  America,  and  one  of  the  original 


212 


REMIXISCEXCES 


settlers  of  Massachusetts,  arrived  at 
Salem  June  12th,  1630,  and  died  Sept. 
30th,  following.  He  ranked  by  virtue 
of  his  birth,  learning  and  wealth,  next 
to  Gov.  Winthrop,  and  was  so  placed 
in  the  colonial  records.  His  wife,  Ar- 
bella  or  Arabella,  was  the  daughter  of 
Thomas  the  14th  Earl  of  Lincoln. 
Gov.  Winthrop  named  the  ship  in 
which  the}'  came  to  this  country  for 
her. 

Edward  and  William,  half  brothers 
of  Isaac,  came  to  America,  in  1630, 
probably  with  Gov.  Winthrop.  Ed- 
ward was  a  merchant  and  historian, 
as  he  wrote  the  "Wonder  Working 
Providence  of  Zion's  Savior,"  which 
was  a  history  of  New  England  from 
1628  to  1652.  It  was  printed  in  Lon- 
don in  1654,  and  copies  of  the  orig- 
inal edition  are  highly  prized  by  bibli- 
ographers. He  was  also  speaker  of 
the  colonial  Legislature,  and  one  of 
the  members  authorized  to  treat  with 
the  commissioners  of  Charles  II.  He 
resided  at  Charlestown,  and  was  one 
of  the  founders  of  Woburn,  as  Isaac 
was  of  Boston.  Edward,  as  ma}'  be 
seen  from  the  foregoing,  was  a  man  of 
great  note  in  the  colon}'.  He  was  the 
first  of  the  family  in  this  town,  as  it  is 
recorded  that  he  traded  here  about  the 
year  1634.  As  this  was  a  year  prior 
to  the  arrival  of  the  party  with 
Messrs.  Parker  &  Xoyes.  this  trade 
must  have  been  with  the  Indians,  or 
some  isolated  pioneers.  He  kept  the 
town  records  of  Woburn  from  its  foun- 
dation until  his  death. 

Below  I  give  some  extracts  from  va- 
rious works  regarding  Isaac  Johnson. 

Bancroft,  in  his  "History  of  the 
United  States,"  says : 

"  The  zeal  of  White  soon  found  oth- 
er and  powerful  associates  in  and  about 
London,  men  of  religious  fervour  :  AVin- 


throp,  Dudley,  Johnson,  Pynchon.  Ea- 
ton, Saltoustall,  Bellingham,  etc.,  fa- 
mous in  colonial  records." 

In  another  place  it  says  : 

"The  virtues  of  Arabella  Johnson, 
a  daughter  of  the  house  of  Lincoln, 
could  not  break  through  the  gloomy 
shadows  which  surrounded  her.  and  as 
she  was  ill  before  her  arrival,  grief 
soon  hurried  her  to  the  grave.  Her  hus- 
band, one  of  the  first  men  in  the  colo- 
ny, zealous  for  pure  religion,  in  life 
the  greatest  furtherer  of  the  plantation, 
and  by  his  bequests  a  benefactor  of 
the  infant  state,  was  subdued  by  the 
force  of  disease  and  affliction,  but  he 
died  willingly  and  in  sweet  peace,  mak- 
a  most  godly  end." 

Lossing's  "History  of  the  United 
States,"  says : 

"Amongst  these  was  Isaac  Johnson, 
a  principal  leader  of  the  enterprise, 
and  the  wealthiest  of  the  founders  of 
Boston,  and  his  wife,  the  Lady  Arabel- 
la, a  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln. 
She  died  at  Salem,  and  her  husband 
did  not  long  survive  her.'' 

Blake's  Biographical  Dictionary  con- 
firms what  I  have  noted  regarding 
Edward,  stating  also,  that  he  went  to 
Merrimack  in  16o2  with  a  license  to 
trade.  Concerning  Isaac  it  says,  "Bos- 
ton was  settled  under  his  conduct. 
He  had  the  largest  estate  of  any  of 
the  colonists,  and  was  the  greatest  fur- 
therer of  the  plantation."  His  lot  in 
Boston  was  the  square  between  Tre- 
niont,  Washington,  Court,  and  School 
streets,  and  he  was  buried  at  the  upper 
end  of  his  lot,  which  gave  occasion  for 
the  first  burial  place,  to  be  laid  out 
around  his  grave.  This  is  the  church 
vard  of  King's  chapel.  His  house  was 
on  a  hill  near  Tremont  street. 

Thomas  Johnson,  kinsman  of  Wil- 
liam, was  amongst  the  earliest  ship- 
builders on  the  Merrimack  river.  He 
owned  the  ship-yard  near  the  bottom 


OF   A   NONAQENAKIAIir. 


213 


of  Ship  street,  and  was  one  of  the 
first  settlers  in  that  locality.  His 
home  was  on  the  corner  of  Ship  and 
Water  streets,  and  at  the  time  it  was 
built  there  was  only  the  residence  of 
Dr.  Humphrey  Bradstreet  and  one 
other  house  below  on  Water  street. 

William  Johnson  came  from  Charles- 
town  and  succeeded  Thomas  in  the 
business,  and  soon  became  a  wealthy 
man.  In  the  town  records,  1731,  we 
find,  "Town  voted  liberty  to  William 
Johnson  and  others  to  build  a  wharf  at 
the  foot  of  Chandler's  lane  (now  Fed- 
eral street."  , 

The  ship  carpenters  were  then  one 
of  the  most  influential  classes  in  town, 
and  William  Johnson  was  at  their  head. 
At  his  death  in  1741  he  bequeathed 
one  half  of  his  ship  yard,  and  his 
homestead,  corner  of  Water  and  Fed- 
eral streets,  to  his  son  Isaac  ;  his  house 
corner  of  Water  and  Ship  streets  and 
the  other  half  of  his  ship  }-ard  to  his 
son  Eleazer.  He  left  legacies  to  his 
son  William,  the  clergyman,  and  to 
his  daughter.  He  was  a  wealthy  man 
for  those  times,  and  possessed  two  or 
three  farms,  well  stocked,  a  number  of 
houses,  barns,  ware-houses,  a  long 
wharf,  a  ship  yard  with  all  the  machin- 
ery, tools  and  implements  of  art  used 
in  the  business,  lumber,  a  negro  girl, 
etc.  The  wharf  originally  cost  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  and  as  much  more 
was  afterward  spent  upon  it.  When 
it  came  info"  the  hands  of  a  descendant, 
and  the  ship  yard  merged  into  John- 
son's wharf,  some  thousands  were 
spent  in  putting  a  substantial  stone 
wall  around  it.  Here  Capt.  William 
P.  Johnson,  who  was  first  a  ship  car- 
penter, then  a  successful  ship  master, 
when  the  Johnson  ship  yard  was 
no  more,  on  the  Johnson  wharf,  car- 


ried on  a  large  and  profitable  business. 
He  owned  the  first  ship  employed  in 
freighting  in  Newburyport,  the  "In- 
dustry "  which  was  employed  in  taking 
tobacco,  from  the  James  river  to  Eu- 
rope. He  can  be  truly  called  the 
father  of  the  freighting  business  which 
was  such  a  source  of  profit  to  the 
place.  Capt.  Nicholas  Johnson,  Capt. 
John  N.  Gushing,  and  Henry  John- 
son, esq.,  afterwards  owners  of  the 
Johnson  wharf,  there  successfully  per- 
sued  the  same  business  until  their  re- 
moval to  the  "  Gushing  wharf,  "  which 
is  still  owned  in  the  family.  The 
Johnson  wharf  was  sold  to  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Bartlett  in  1830  for  eight  thous- 
and dollars,  and  was  called  the  Bart- 
let  wharf.  Again  in  1855  it  was  sold 
for  forty-two  hundred  dollars,  and  has 
passed  from  the  family. 

William  Johnson's  vessels  constantly 
arrived  at  Newbur3Tport,  from  Hon- 
duras, the  West  Indies,  the  Straits, 
and  the  north  of  Europe.  He  was 
the  first  person  in  Newburyport  who 
put  blinds  to  the  windows  of  his 
house. 

Eleazer  Johnson  led  the  band  that 
seized  the  tea  and  burned  it  in  market 
square  before  the  destruction  of  the 
tea  in  Boston  harbor.  The  story  is 
as  follows  :  Eleazer  Johnson  standing 
one  day,  upon  the  timber  of  his  }~ard, 
called  his  men  about  him,  and  after  a 
few  patriotic  words  gave  the  order, 
"all  who  are  read}-  to  join,  knock  your 
adzes  from  the  handles,  shoulder  the 
handles  and  follow  me."  Every  adze  in 
the  yard  was  knocked  off,  and  the  stout, 
athletic  man,  who  would  have  marched 
through  a  regiment  of  "  red  coats,  " 
had  they  stood  in  his  way,  taking  his 
broad  axe  as  an  emblem  of  leadership, 
and  for  use,  marched  at  the  head  of 


214 


REMINISCEXCES 


the  company  to  the  powder-house. 
There  that  well  tried  axe  opened  a 
way  through  the  door,  and  each  man 
shouldering  a  chest  of  tea,  again  fell 
into  line.  The}'  marched  direct  to 
where  Market  square  is  now  located, 
defiling  round  the  old  meeting-house. 
Johnson's  axe  opened  a  chest,  and  box 
and  tea  were  on  the  ground  together, 
each  man  as  he  came  up  followed  suit, 
then  with  his  own  hand  Johnson  light- 
ed the  pile  and  burned  it  to  ashes. 

Through  the  troublous  times  that  fol- 
lowed, the  Johnsons  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  "  Sons  of  Liberty."  Eleazer's 
sons  were,  like  himself,  intelligent,  en- 
terprising, and  patriotic.  His  son 
Philip  volunteered  and  participated  in 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  His  son 
Eleazer,  who  commanded  a  "  Letter  of 
Marque"  in  the  revolution,  the  brig 
"  Dalton,"  was  captured,  and  he  and 
his  crew  were  imprisoned  at  Plymouth 
for  two  or  three  years,  in  the  famous 
"  Old  Mill  Prison."  His  son  Nicholas, 
who  commanded  the  "Count  de  Grass," 
was  the  first  to  display  the  stars  and 
stripes  from  his  mast-head  on  the  river 
Thames .  His  son  William  Pearce  John- 
son, master  of  brig  "American  Hero," 
in  1776,  hearing,  when  in  one  of  the 
French  West  Indian  islands,  that  war 
had  begun,  loaded  with  arms  and  am- 
munition, which  he  safely  landed  in 
Boston.  This  was  the  first  material 
aid  furnished  the  patriots.  Like  his 
ancestors,  William  P.  Johnson  pos- 
sessed great  muscular  power.  In  a 
test  of  strength  with  the  late  William 
Bartlett,  his  neighbor,  he  lifted  eigh- 
teen fifty-six  pound  weights,  and  was 
declared  the  strongest  man  in  town. 
Eleazer  Johnson  was  above  the  ordina- 
ry size,  with  black  hair  and  eyes. 


The  Johnson  coat  of  arms  are  : 


GULE?,    THREE  SPEiU  HEADS    ARGENT.    CHIEF  EUMIN'E. 
CREST — BAVEX'r*    WIXGS    REVERSED. 


The  Greenleafs,  with  whom  the 
Johnsons  so  frequently  intermarried, 
have  been  a  family  of  great  considera- 
tion in  Newburyport.  Three  brothers 
of  the  name  emigrated  here.  Benja- 
min, a  descendant  of  one  of  these, 
died  in  1783,  having  been  a  representa- 
tive in  the  legislature  and  otherwise 
honored  with  marks  of  public  confi- 
dence. Jonathan  and  Benjamin  were 
nephews  of  the  first-named  Benjamin. 
The  Greenleafs  sprang  from  the  French 
Huguenots.  They  removed  to  Eng- 
land in  the  sixteenth  century  :  thence 
to  America.  Stephen  Greenleaf.  son 
of  Edmund,  built  one  of  the  earliest 
wharves  in  the  vicinity  of  the  mar- 
ket, in  1680.  On  that  spot  next  the 
town  landing  w:is  the  yard  in  which 
Jonathan  Greenleaf,  his  kinsman, 
worked  as  a  mechanic.  •Air.  Green- 
leaf  became  the  owner  of  this  yard, 
and  furnished  many  vessels  for  the 
mother  country  before  the  revolution. 
He  owed  all  that  he  was  to  his  industry 
and  natural  talents  :  having  few  educa- 
tional advantages,  he  became  well  in- 
formed, won  the  confidence  of  all,  and 
was  constantly  in  some  public  office. 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


215 


He  was  on  the  first  "committee  of 
safety  "  in  Revolutionary  times,  was  a 
member  of  the  Continental  Congress, 
of  the  governor's  council,  the  State 
senate,  and  a  representative  to  General 
Court  for  man}'  years.  In  1782  the 
town  of  Newbmyport  voted  thanks 
for  his  long  and  faithful  service  in  Gen- 
eral Court.  He  was  considered  one  of 
the  great  men  of  his  day  :  one  of  the 
ablest,  most  eloquent,  and  most  influ- 
ential men,  a  man  of  such  persuasive 
powers  that  he  was  commonly  known 
by  the  designation  of  "Silver  Tongue." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

The  Rev.  David  Toppan,  the  succes- 
sor of  the  Rev.  William  Johnson,  was 
ordained  April  18,  1774.  He  married 
Mary,  daughter  of  Dr.  Enoch  Sawyer 
of  the  west  parish.  He  was  appointed 
professor  at  Harvard  University  in 
1792,  and  died  August  27,  1803,  aged 
51  years. 

Leonard  Woods,  D.  D..  was  settled 
December  5,  1798,  and  installed  at 
Andover  Theological  Seminary  in  1808. 

In  1789,  intelligence  of  the  success 
that  had  attended  the  labors  of  a  }'oung 
English  missionary  in  New  Brunswick, 
having  been  brought  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Murray,  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian 
church,  as  it  was  a  period  of  much  re- 
ligious interest,  not  only  in  his  societ}* 
but  throughout  the  town,  the  clergy- 
man forwarded  a  most  pressing  invita- 
tion to  the  young  divine  to  come  hith- 
er. The  invitation  was  accepted,  and 
the  summer  of  that  year  the  stranger 
commenced  his  ministration  in  New- 
buryport. 


Charles  William  Milton  was  born  in 
London  the  29th  of  Nov.,  1767.  A  pro- 
tege of  Lady  Huntingdon,  he  graduated 
at  the  Seminary  established  by  her  mu- 
nificence for  the  education  of  young 
men  in  the  gospel  ministry. 

Mr.  Milton  was  ordained  a  mission- 
aiy  in  Spa  Fields  Chapel,  London, 
17th  of  Feb.,  1788,  and  commenced  the 
labor  of  his  vocation  in  the  British  Prov- 
inces. From  his  first  advent,  the  young 
preacher  created  a  great  sensation  in 
Newburyport  and  vicinity.  He  was  in- 
vited to  settle  in  Amesbury,  but  his  ad- 
mirers in  New  bury  port  could  not  per- 
mit him  to  go,  but  formed  a  new  society, 
the  fourth,  and  settled  him  as  their  pas- 
tor. This  measure,  so  little  anticipated 
by  Mr.  Murray  when  he  solicited  Mr. 
Milton's  presence,  must  have  been  gall- 
ing to  the  pastor  of  the  Presb}-terian 
church,  as  the  larger  part  of  those 
forming  the  new  Independent  society 
were  seceders  from  his  flock. 

As  the  town  refused  the  society 
the  use  of  the  town  house,  the  members 
for  a  while  met  for  worship  at  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  Anthony  Morse  in  Milk 
street.  In  1793,  the  present  Prospect 
street  church  was  erected,  and  Mr.  Mil- 
ton was  installed  March  20,  1791 .  His 
popularity  continued  for  }-ears,  the  large 
church  being  filled,  often  crowded. 

This  building  was  at  first  built  with 
two  towers  and  belfn's,  as  now,  but 
the  interior  was  much  more  massive. 
There  were  galleries  on  three  sides,  the 
pews  were  square,  the  pulpit  like  all 
pulpits  in  those  daj's,  there  was  a  sound- 
ing board  and  deacons'  seat.  Two 
beautiful  glass  chandeliers  lighted  the 
house  ;  these,  though  the  church  has 
been  modernized,  the  society  has  had 
the  good  taste  to  preserve. 

I  was  about  fourteen  j'ears  of  agp 


216 


REMESTISCE^CES 


the  first  time  I  heard  Parson  Milton 
preach ;  he  was  in  the  pulpit  when  I 
entered  the  meeting-house.  In  those 
days  the  seats,  which  were  on  hinges,  j 
were  raised  during  prayer,  in  order  that  | 
the  worshippers  might  stand  more  con- 
veniently. As  the  congregation  rose, 
up  went  the  seats  with  a  clap,  and  the 
"  amen  "  was  followed  by  a  slam,  bang, 
which  rattled  the  windows  and  rever- 
berated through  the  building  in  a  most 
anti-reverential  manner.  Here  and 
there  a  seat  was  cushioned  for  an  inva- 
lid or  elderly  woman,  but  it  was  a  rare 
thing  for  a  pew  to  be  thus  furnished 
throughout,  and  a  carpeted  floor  had 
never  been  thought  of.  Col.  Green- 
leaf  caused  a  deal  of  talk  by  cushioning 
his  pew  in  the  new  Pleasant  street 
meeting-house  with  cushions  covered 
with  red  velvet  edged  by  fringe. 

I  had  scarcejy  become  seited  when  up 
jumped  Parson  Milton  from  the  pulpit, 
in  his  gown  and  bands,  like  a  jumping 
jack  out  of  a  box,  and,  with  up-raised 
hands,  gleaming  eyes,  the  thick  curls 
falling  to  his  shoulders,  in  quick,  curt 
tones,  he  shouted,  "  Let's  pra}T."  Up 
jumped  the  congregation  ;  slap  !  went 
up  the  seats.  I  was  scarcely  on  my 
feet,  or  had  regained  the  breath  which 
had  been  fairly  taken  from  me,  when 
"amen"  was  pronounced  ;  down,  bang ! 
went  the  seats,  and  a  Irymn  was  given 
out.  I  doubt  not  that  the  sermon  was 
sound  and  pithy,  but  the  preacher's 
manner  so  wrought  upon  my  nerves 
that  I  could  scarcely  listen,  and  the 
final  amen  was  hailed  with  great  satis- 
faction. I  was  only  too  glad,  as  the 
pew  doors  were  flung  wide  and  the  men 
and  bo3's  clattered  down  the  aisle,  to 
follow  them  into  the  winter  sunshine  of 
the  quiet  street. 

By   his   good   sense,    urbanity,   and 


originality,  Parson  Milton  obtained  a 
strong  hold  upon  the  affection  of  his 
people.  His  preaching  was  bold  and 
energetic,  often  interluded  by  the  most 
odd  and  startling  illustrations  ;  at  times 
he  soared  into  a  perfect  rhapsody  of 
impassioned  eloquence.  The  manner 
of  the  man  pointed  every  word,  a  man- 
ner peculiarry  his  own ;  his  tones  and 
gestures  must  be  heard  and  seen  to  be 
appreciated ;  the}-  were  the  power  by 
which  he  swayed  the  multitude.  Whol- 
ly absorbed  in  his  subject,  he  often  cast 
aside  rules  and  regulations,  making  a 
law  unto  himself. 

The  sexton  of  his  societ}-  was  a  Mr. 
Currier.  This  name,  in  the  then  com- 
mon parlance,  was  called  Kiah.  On 
one  occasion,  at.  an  evening  lecture, 
Parson  Milton  nearl}-  upset  the  equa- 
nimit}'  of  Ms  hearers,  by  shouting,  in 
the  midst  of  his  sermon,  without  the 
slightest  pause  between  the  sentences, 
"The  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Kiah  snuff 
the  caudles  ! "  Describing  one  of  his 
church  members,  who  was  a  dealer  in 

lumber,  he  Said  :  ' '  Brother is  the 

crookedest  stick  that  ever  grew  on 
Zion's  hill."  One  Sunday,  in  his  ve- 
hemence, he  pushed  the  Bible  from  the 
the  desk,  and  the  sacred  volume, 
much  to  the  consternation  of  the 
congregation,  went,  slap !  upon  the 
floor  in  front  of  the  pulpit. 

On  a  warm  Sunda}'  afternoon,  the 
Parson  espied  one  of  his  parishioners 
asleep  in  his  pew,  near  the  pulpit. 
This  man's  Christian  name  was  Mark. 
Leaning  forward,  in  a  quick,  loud  tone 
he  exclaimed,  "Mark!"  The  sleeper 
started  and  opened  his  eyes,  when  in  a 
lower  tone  was  added,  "the  perfect 
man,  and  behold  the  upright.  "  He 
was  a  true  friend  of  sailors ;  every 
Sunday  his  invariable  petition  arose 


OF   A 


217 


"  that  God  would  bless  our  seafaring- 
brethren.  "  Parson  Milton  died  May 
1,  1837,  aged  seventy  years. 

Several  members  of  the  Presbyterian 
church,  being  dissatisfied  with  the  set- 
tlement of  the  Rev.  Daniel  Dana  as 
their  pastor,  withdrew  from  the  society 
and  forfned  the  second  Presbyterian 
church.  The  society  was  incorporated 
November  24th,  1796.  That  year 
Harris,  Pleasant,  Broad  and  Essex 
streets  were  accepted  by  the  town,  and 
the  meeting-house  erected  on  Har- 
ris street  by  the  new  Presbyterian 
society  was  dedicated  in  December. 
The  first  pastor  of  this  society  was  the 
Rev.  John  Boddily,  who  was  born  in 
Bristol,  England,  and  educated  at  Lady 
Huntingdon's  college.  He  was  or- 
dained at  Westbury,  England,  in  1780, 
and  installed  in  Newburyport,  June  28, 
1797.  Mr.  Boddily  died  in  1802,  and 
was  succeeded  by  the  Rev.  John  Giles. 
This  gentleman,  also  an  Englishman, 
was  born  in  Caerlon,  Monmouthshire, 
in  1758  ;  he  was  settled  over  the  socie- 
ty iu  Harris  street,  July  20,  1803. 
Parson  Giles  was  the  great  Democrat- 
ic, or,  as  he  was  commonly  styled,  Ja- 
cobin preacher,  rivalling  Dr.  Parish,  of 
Byfield,  his  Federalist  opponent.  Peo- 
ple would  rush  to  town  from  all  quar- 
ters to  listen  to  the  Democratic  dis- 
courses of  Parson  Giles,  and  the  ineet- 
ing-house  would  be  thronged,  while 
vice  versa,  the  town  folk  would  go 
out  to  Byfield  to  enjoy  the  eloquence  of 
the  celebrated  Dr.  Parish's  fiery  Feder- 
alist harangues.  The  church  in  Harris 
street  was  the  nucleus  of  the  Demo- 
cratic society  of  the  place — Dr.  Smith 
of  Mount  Rural,  Capt.  Benjamin  Pierce, 
the  Williams'  family,  the  Hortons,  Capt. 
Richards,  Mr.  Samuel  Noyes  of  the 
"Farms,"  and  other  leading  families, — 
28 


for  though  Newburyport  was  emphati- 
.cally  a  Federalist  town,  there  was  still 
a  most  respectable  minority  of  Demo- 
crats. 

From  nry  earliest  recollection,  there 
were  Baptist  churches  in  Haverhill  and 
New  Rowle3T,  but  the  society  in  New- 
buryport was  not  formed  until  1804. 
This  sect  had  obtained  a  few  converts 
through  several  previous  years.  I 
have  elsewhere  mentioned  an  unsuc- 
cessful attempt  to  form  a  church.  The 
first  regular  service  was  held  in  a 
school-house  on  Marlborough  street, 
July  22,  1804 ;  a  young  licentiate 
preacher,  Joshua  Chase,  conducted  the 
service.  On  Sunday,  the  14th  of  the 
October  following,  Stephen  Goodwin, 
David  Burbank,  Benjamin  Goodwin, 
Bart  Hurd,  John  Flood,  Nathaniel  Pet- 
tingell,  and  Mrs.  Rebecca  Dorman, 
were  baptized.  These  were  the  first 
ever  immersed  in  the  town.  The  2d  of 
May,  1805,  a  church  was  regularly  or- 
ganized. Soon  after,  the  young  licen- 
tiate was  ordained  as  an  evangelist  and 
went  to  another  field  of  labor.  In  the 
autumn,  an  engagement  was  made  with 
the  Rev.  John  Peak,  who  preached 
alternately  in  the  Marlborough  street 
school-house  and  in  a  small  building  at 
the  "Plains."  This  continued  until 
Mr.  Peak  made  it  a  condition  of  his 
permanent  settlement  that  the  society 
should  worship  in  some  central  location 
in  Newburyport.  For  a  time  they 
met  in  a  building  called  the  ' '  Taber- 
nacle," on  Temple  street.  In  1807 
the  society  began  to  build  a  brick 
meeting-house  on  Liberty  street,  which 
was  completed  the  next  year,  and  the 
next,  1809,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Peak  was  or- 
dained pastor. 

Capt.  William  Cutler,  of  Newbury- 
port, married  a  French  lady,  a  member 


218 


REMINISCENCES 


of  the  Roman  Catholic  church.  To 
baptize  her  infant,  and  perform  other 
sacraments,  Bishop  Chevereaux.  of 
Boston,  occasional!}*  visited  Mrs.  Cut- 
ler at  her  residence.  There  were  some 
half  dozen"  French  exiles  and  other 
foreigners  in  the  place,  also  Catholics, 
who  would  assemble  on  these  visits, 
in  a  chamber  which  Mrs.  Cutler  had 
fitted  up  for  an  oratory.  These  were 
the  first  Catholic  services  ever  held  in 
Newburyport.  • 

Sophronia  Peabod}'  when  a  child  was 
intimate  with  Mrs.  Cutler's  little  girl. 
One  Saturda}-  as  the  two  were  return- 
ing home  from  school,  Frasiette  said  to 
Sophronia  :  "  The  bishop  is  coming  to 
say  mass  to-morrow.  Mamma  expects 
him  this  afternoon  in  the  four  o'clock 
stage.  We  have  fitted  up  the  oratory 
real  pretty,  and  if  you  will  never,  never 
tell,  I  will  show  it  to  you."  Mrs.  Cut- 
ler, a  very  quiet  and  discreet  person, 
avoided  all  publicity  that  might  cause 
remark  or  animadversion,  consequent- 
ly this  caution  in  Frasiette.  Fronie 
having  given  the  required  promise  of 
secrecy,  the  two  mounted  to  the  second 
story  of  Mr.  Cutler's  house.  Slowly 
opening  a  door.  Frasiette.  reverentby 
crossing  herself,  admitted  her  visitor 
into  a  dimly  lighted  apartment,  richly 
furnished,  and  hung  with  several  pic- 
tures from  scripture  subjects ;  at  the 
upper  end  was  an  altar  covered  with  a 
handsome  cloth,  upon  which  was  a  cru- 
cifix, wax  tapers,  and  other  appurte- 
nances for  worship.  Gliding  across 
the  room,  the  little  Frasiette  devoutly 
knelt  and  whispered  an  ave.  The  dim, 
religious  air  of  the  room,  and  the  so- 
lemnity of  her  companion,  made  a  viv- 
id impression  on  nry  .young  cousin. 
Scarcely  would  she  then  have  believed 
that  her  baby  brother.  Joseph  Little, 


in  after  years  would  graduate  at  a 
Catholic  college,  marry  a  catholic  lady, 
and  live  and  die  in  the  bosom  of  that 
church,  which,  as  a  New  England  boy. 
he  was  taught  to  shun  and  abhor. 


CHAPTER   XL II. 

From  its  settlement.  Xewbury,  for  a 
new  place,  was  remarkably  well  sup- 
plied with  the  means  of  education. 
For  the  first  few  years.  Mr.  Parker  and 
Mr.  Xoyes  taught  the  boys  of  their 
charge,  but  in  a  short  time  a  regular 
schoolmaster  was  maintained.  His 
election  and  the  appropriation  for  his 
salary  being  one  of  the  items  in  the 
warning  for  the  annual  town  meeting. 
Provision  was  also  made  for  the  study 
of  Latin. 

The  first  schoolmaster  of  Xewbury 
was  Anthony  Somerby.  In  the  year 
1639,  "for  his  encouragement  to  keep 
schoole  for  one  year,  he  was  granted 
foure  akers  of  upland,  over  the  great 
river,  on  the  neck ;  also  sixe  akers  of 
salt  marsh,  next  to  Abraham  Toppan's 
twenty  akers."  In  1675,  Mr.  Henry 
Short  was  hired  at  a  salary  of  £~>  for 
the  first  six  months,  and  sixpence  a 
week  from  each  scholar. 

As  the  population  increased  and  ex- 
tended, difficulties  arose  respecting  the 
location  and  support  of  the  school. 
There  was  the  first  settlement  on  the 
river  Parker,  the  Riverside  village  on 
the  Merrimac,  and  the  West  village 
near  the  Artichoke  river.  As  these 
settlements  were  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  each  other,  each  holding 
distinct  interests,  it  was  but  natural 
that  the  town  meetings  became  the 


OF   A   NOXAGESTARIAN. 


219 


arena  of  much  zealous  contention  upon 
the  school  question.  The  Parker  river 
settlement  usually  contrived  to  se- 
cure the  largest  appropriation,  while 
the  remote  village  at  the  ' '  Plains  " 
with  difficulty  secured  a  mere  moiety. 
In  1680  the  town  voted  to  pay  a 
salary-  of  £60  a  year,  and  hired  Mr. 
Emerson  as  teacher.  The  minority 
rebelled,  refused  to  employ  Mr.  Em- 
erson, and  hired  a  Mr.  Burley  for  £20. 
'The  "  Generall  Courte "  was  called 
upon  to  settle  the  matter.  It  de- 
cided in  favor  of  Mr.  Emerson, 
but  as  the  town  was  unwilling  to  pay 
the  high  salary  of  £60,  Mr.  Emerson 
was  requested  to  teach  at  the  old  salary 
of  £20  ;  at  his  refusal  he  was  dismissed 
with  only  one  dissentient  vote.  The 
next  year  Mr.  Burle}'  was  secured  as 
master  at  the  usual  salary  of  £20.  He 
taught  nearly  two  years,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Mr.  Edward  Toinson  who 
resided  at  the  "  Plains."  .Up  to  1691, 
the  school  was  located  at  Oldtown  :  that 
year  it  was  voted  that  it  should  1  >e  kept 
a  third  of  the  year  at  each  of  the  vil- 
lages. Mr.  Seth  Shone  was  hired  as 
master :  he  was  to  teach  readers  free, 
Latin  scholars  were  to  pay  6d,  and  ci- 
pherers 4d  a  week. 

In  1693,  Mr.  John  Clark  was  called 
to  preach  and  keep  a  grammar  school 
at  the  west  village  for  one  year.  In 
1694  Mr.  Christopher  Toppan  was  em- 
plo}*ed ;  he  was  to  receive  ' '  £20  in 
money,  and  30s  in  good  country  pay, 
so  long  as  he  shall  carry  on  one-half 
of  the  ministry,  and  £30  in  good  coun- 
try pa}',  so  long  as  he  shall  keep  the 
writing  and  grammar  school."  Nicho- 
las Webster  succeeded  Mr.  Toppan; 
he  was  to  have  £30  in  country  pay,  4d 
a  week  from  "lattin"  scholars,  and 
"nothing  a  week"  for  readers,  writers, 


and  cipherers.  From  1700  to  1711, 
Mr.  Richard  Brown,  afterwards  minis- 
ter at  Reading,  was  the  teacher.  In 
1713,  Mr.  John  Woodbridge  was  hired 
at  a  salary  of  £25  ;  he  taught  the  school 
for  eighteen  years,  his  salary  being 
gradual!}-  raised  to  £40  per  annum. 

In  1725  the  Third  parish  was  formed. 
This  parish,  as  I  have  previously 
stated,  had  the  care  of  the  educational 
interests  of  its  children,  obtaining  what 
money  was  possible  from  the  town  and 
making  up  the  remainder  b}-  a  tax  upon 
the  parish.  In  1728  the  town  voted 
£30  for  each  of  the  three  parishes  ;  the 
Third  parish  added  £30  to  its  share. 
TiiC  Third  parish  school  was  then  kept 
in  the  house  of  John  Ordway,  near  the 
head  of  Queen,  now  Market  street.  In 
1732  Master  Woodbridge  was  succeed- 
ed by  Master  Stephen  Sewell,  who 
taught  for  nearly  fifty  years.  In  1740 
the  Third  parish  raised  £120  to  have  a 
grammar  school,  which  was  taught  by 
Mr.  Samuel  Moody,  and  a  writing 
school,  which  was  taught  by  Mr.  Leon- 
ard Cotton.  At  the  incorporation  of 
Newburyport,  in .  1764,  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  provide,  at  the  public 
expense,  good  and  sufficient  school- 
houses  and  the  best  masters  that  could 
be  procured.  The  grammar  school  was 
located  on  Greenleaf's  lane,  now  State 
street,  in  the  town-house,  which  had 
been  built  by  the  Third  parish  two 
years  previous.  This  was  a  two-story 
wooden  building,  surmounted  by  a  bel- 
fry and  spire,  and  stood  near  the  upper 
corner  of  Essex  street,  on  a  part  of 
the  Clement  estate.  Mr.  Joshua 
Moocty  was  the  first  teacher.  At  the 
"March  meeting,"  1764,  Mr.  Moody 
resigned,  and  Mr.  Eleazer  Porter  was 
hired  for  a  time.  In  July  the  select- 
men offered  the  school,  at  £70  a  year, 


220 


REMINISCENCES 


to  Mr.  James  Lovell,  an  usher  in  a 
school  in  Boston.  Mr.  Lovell  request- 
ed time  to  decide  upon  his  answer. 
After  waiting  several  weeks,  Mr.  Sam- 
uel Parker  was  placed  over  the  school. 
He  taughf  until  1767,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Mr.  Moses  Holt,  who  taught 
three  years,  when  Mr.  Jeremiah  Fogg 
took  the  school,  at  £60  a  year.  Mr. 
Fogg  taught  three  years,  when  Mr. 
Nicholas  Pike  was  appointed  at  a 
salary  of  £80.  Master  Pike  was  a 
renowned  teacher.  He  was  also  town 
clerk,  a  selectman,  and  a  representa- 
tive to  the  State  legislature  ;  after  the 
Province  became  a  State  he  was  a  jus- 
tice of  the  peace.  Mr.  Pike  was  a 
great  mathematician.  His  arithmetic 
was  the  first  ever  issued  in  this  coun- 
tn- ;  it  was  in  universal  use  until  Mas- 
ter Walsh's  appeared.  Mr.  Pike 
taught  the  school  until  1791.  with  the 
exception  of  one  year,  when  his  place 
was  filled  by  Master  Woodbridge. 
Mr.  Samuel  Moody  succeeded  Mr. 
Pike,  taught  two  years,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  Rev.  Eliphalet  Gillet-t,  who, 
in  1794,  gave  place  to  another  distin- 
guished teacher,  Master  Michael  Walsh. 
In  1796  the  brick  school-house  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  Mall,  near  the  site  of 
the  ancient  windmill,  was  built.  Mas- 
ter Walsh  taught  until  1803.  when  he 
was  succeeded  by  Joshua  Lane.  He  was 
followed  by  Moody  Noyes.  and  by  John 
Loud,  who  kept  until  1806.  The 
school  having  greatly  declined,  the 
salary  was  raised  from  $420  to 
and  Mr.  Eben  Coffin  hired  to  teach. 
He  was  a  superior  teacher,  and  taught 
until  1810,  when  Joseph  Dana  suc- 
ceeded him.  In  a  few  months  Mr. 
Dana  became  preceptor  of  the  New- 
buryport  Academy,  and  Mr.  P>.  I). 
Emerson  took  the  school.  In  1811  he 


was  succeeded  by  Asa  W.  Wildes.  In 
1816  Mr.  Wildes  resigned,  and  Mr.  B. 
D.  Emerson  again  took  the  school.  In 
1818  Mr.  Frazier  was  teacher,  but  not 
giving  satisfaction,  Mr.  Wildes  was 
persuaded  to  again  take  the  school, 
which  he  taught  until  1823. 

The  two  writing  schools  established  by 
the  town  in  1 764  were  located  :  one  on 
Bartlets  lane,  now  Winter  street,  and 
the  other  on  a  lane  which  is  now 
School  street.  The  school  in  the 
North  school-house  was  form  ally  opened 
by  Parson  Lowell,  with  a  prayer  and 
an  exhortation,  in  which  the  pupils 
were  told  "to  obe}-  and  reverence  the 
master  in  school,  and  at  all  times  to 
conduct  themselves  in  a  proper  and 
orderly  manner." 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Parsons  opened  the 
South  school  with  prayer  and  good 
advice  to  the  bo3~s.  The  master  of  the 
North  school  was  John  Vinal  from 
Boston ;  he  was  succeeded  by  John 
Myc-all,  I.  Hills.  R.  Long,  T.  Thomp- 
son, Enoch  Titcomb,  Henry  Titcomb, 
Win.  Sawyer,  Wm.  Farnham.  Archi- 
bald McPhail.  Henry  Titcomb  and 
Jonathan  Coolidge. 

Master  Stephen  Sewell  was  the  first 
teacher  at  the  South  s'chool ;  he  contin- 
ued to  teach  until,  his  powers  having 
become  unpaired  by  age,  Bishop  Nor- 
ton was  appointed  usher ;  he  succeeded 
Master  Sewell,  retaining  the  school 
until  1790.  lie  was  followed  by  Joseph 
Moody.  Joseph  Newman,  Robert 
Long.  Samuel  Soodhne,  Ben.  Cheever. 
Ben.  AVhitmore.  George  Titcomb  and 
Newman  Brown.  This  school  in  1*L'2 
was  in  the  new  school-house  standing 
on  the  site  of  the  oM  one.  In  17DG 
the  writing  schools  were  so  full,  a 
centre  school  was  formed  in  the  room 
vacated  by  the  grammar  school,  in  the 


OF   A 


221 


old  town  house,  where  it  remained  until 
1609,  when  the  second  stoiy  was  add- 
ed to  the  school-house  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  mall,  and  the  school  re- 
moved to  it.  The  masters  in  the  cen- 
tre school  were  Samuel  Toppan,  Paul 
Noyes,  Benjamin  Clanin,  James  Burn- 
ham,  Samuel  Colman,  Benjamin  Gould, 
Asa  W.  Wildes,  George  Titcomb, 
Benjamin  Whitmore  and  S.  Goodhue. 

In  1805  the  "  north  end"  petitioned 
for  a  school- house.  A  school  had  been 
organized,  which  was  for  a  while 
taught  in  the  upper  loft  of  a  barn  be- 
longing to  Capt.  Morrison  on  Kent 
street.  The  brick  school-house  was 
built,  which  stood  upon  Kent,  corner 
of  Russia  street.  The  masters  of 
this  school  were  William  Pipkin, 
Robert  Harvey,  Daniel  Haskell, 
George  Rogers,  Rev.  H.  Wheeler, 
Nathan  Brown,  Josiah  Bartlett  and 
George  Titcomb. 

Master  Robert  Harvej*  was  also  clerk 
at  St.  Paul's  Episcopal  church.  He 
was  an  excellent  teacher,  and  a  most 
eflicient  church  officer,  much  beloved 
and  respected  b}*  the  rector  and  the  so- 
ciety. Previous  to  this  date,  tin  foot- 
stoves,  holding  within  an  iron  pan 
filled  with  hard  wood  coals,  had  been 
the  only  protection  from  cold  in  any 
house  of  worship,  but  about  the  time 
of  Master  Harvey's  appointment  to  the 
oflici-  of  clerk,  a  large,  cast  iron  stove 
had  been  placed  in  the  broad  aisle  of 
St.  Paul's  church.  One  cold  morning, 
finding  that  the  wood  fire  did  not  give 
the  requisite  heat,  as  uncle  Nat  Bailej', 
the  sexton,  was  ringing  the  bell,  Clerk 
Harvey  proceeded  to  fix  it.  In  so  do- 
ing he  smutted  his  hand,  which  inad- 
vertently was  passed  over  his  -face, 
smearing  it  most  ludicrously.  As  was 
then  the  custom,  at  the  appointed  time 


the  clerk  rose  in  his  desk,  and  with  his 
usual  grave  dignity  gave  out  the  Irymn, 
the  first  line  of  which  most  singularly 
read, — 

"Behold  the  beauties  of  my  face." 

The  effect  was  irresistible,  and  a  sup- 
pressed smile  spread  over  the  congre- 
gation, while  the  unconscious  clerk 
calmly  finished  the  verse. 

Master  George  Titcomb  was  an  ex- 
cellent penman.  During  the  winter  he 
usually  taught  a  private  evening  writ- 
ing school.  He  was  also  noted  for 
making  the  quill  pens  then  wholly  used. 

There  was  no  public  school  for  fe- 
males until  1790  ;  then  four  "  dames'" 
schools  were  gathered  for  girls  between 
five  and  nine  years,  in  which  were 
taught  reading,  spelling  the  catechism, 
sewing,  knitting,  "good  manners  and 
proper  decency  of  behavior."  These 
"  dames"  were  Ann  Bradish,  Elisabeth 
Chandler,  Anne  Obin  and  Margery  Ros- 
seau.  In  1792  the  daughters  of  those 
paying  a  tax  of  over  three  hundred 
pounds,  were  permitted  to  attend  the 
grammar  school,  an  hour  and  a  half 
after  the  usual  session  during  the  sum- 
mer, when  the  number  of  male  pupils 
was  diminished,  to  receive  instruction 
in  reading  and  grammar  from  the  mas- 
ters. This  arrangement  not  proving 
satisfactory,  was  discontinued  at  the 
end  of  the  season. 

In  1791  two  schools  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  small  boys  were  organized.  In 
1804  four  morning  schools  were  estab- 
lished for  girls,  which  were  kept  from 
six  to  eight  o'clock,  and  Thursday  after- 
noons, for  six  months  in  the  year.  Not- 
withstanding the  early  hour  these 
schools  were  well  attended.  They  were 
taught  by  the  masters  of  the  boys' 
schools  in  the  four  school-houses  of  the 
town. 


222 


REMINISCENCES 


In  1812  these  morning  schools  were 
discontinued,  and  three  grammar 
schools  for  girls  were  established. 
One  was  located  in  the  Court  House, 
the  "  north  end  "  school  was  taught  in 
the  second  story  of  the  school-house 
on  Kent  street,  and  the  third  was  on 
Beck  street.  The  teachers  were  Miss 
Chadbourne,  Miss  S.  I.  Moulton  and 
Miss  Clarissa  Call.  Private  schools 
were  extensive!}*  patronized.  Those 
for  young  children  were  usually  taught 
by  middle  aged  or  elderly  women,  in 
cap  and  spectacles.  There  were  Dame 
Moody,  Marm  Emerson,  Marm  Fowler 
at  Belleville,  and  others.  Distinguished 
private  schools  for  both  sexes  were 
taught  by  gentlemen.  Several  of  the 
teachers  of  the  public  school-.  :ii 
times  taught  private  schools.  Master 
Long  kept  in  a  low,  ropewalk-like 
building,  a  rude  structure,  with  an  im- 
mense fire  place,  and  a  wall  from  which 
large  patches  of  plastering  had  been 
detached,  while  the  remainder  was  in  a 
cracked  and  shaky  condition.  Though 
at  that  time  a  teacher  considered  it 
necessary  never  to  neglect  the  axiom 
"spare  the  rod  and  spoil  the  child.  " 
even  then  Master  Long  was  noted  for 
severity.  "  Oh  my  !  how  he  did  lick 
the  boys  !  "  was  the  exclamation  of  a 
former  pupil,  as  she  recalled  her  school 
days.  Master  Walsh  had  a  flourishing 
private  school,  in  a  school-house  back 
of  the  church  on  Harris  street.  Mas- 
ter Archibald  McPhail,  for  a  time, 
taught  a  very  select  and  genteel  school, 
in  a  long,  low,  wooden  building  on 
Green  street,  on  the  lot  where  the 
Catholic  church  now  stands.  Later 
Master  Titcomb  taught  in  this  building 
a  private  school  for  boys.  There  was 
also  a  number  of  select  schools  for 
young  ladies  in  the  town.  In  my 


childhood  Marm  Dod  and  Miss  Phillipa 
Call  were  famed  instructresses.  Mrs. 
Catharine  Wigglesworth  lirown,  the 
widowed  daughter  of  Col.  Wiggles- 
worth,  had  a  large  and  genteel  school 
for  several  years  in  Xewburyport ; 
afterwards  she  was  the  Principal  of  a 
flourishing  seminary  in  Georgetown, 
D.  C.  Miss  Akerman.  Mrs.  McCul- 
loch.  Miss  Susan  Tenney,  Miss  Elisa- 
beth White  and  Miss  Stan  wood,  had 
private  schools  for  Misses.  Dr.  Sam- 
uel Colman,  for  a  time,  taught  a  private 
school  for  young  ladies,  in  a  room 
over  the  ''Herald"  office.  After  his 
decease  this  school  was  continued  by 
his  daughter  Mary  Ann,  at  her 
mother's  residence  on  Water  street. 
Miss  Brice.  an  English  woman,  taught 
in  the  old  ;-  Tabernacle, "  Temple 
street.  This  lad}'  and  her  negro  maid 
servant  were  conspicuous  characters 
at  that  period. 

At  each  of  the  female  schools,  in  ad- 
dition to  knitting  and  plain  sewing,  or- 
namental needlework  was  taught,  and 
in  some,  instruction  was  given  in 
drawing  in  India  ink  and  painting  in 
water  colors ;  also,  every  girl  was 
taught  to  embroider  letters  in  mark- 
ing stitch.  One  was  considered  very 
poorly  educated  who  could  not  ex- 
hibit a  sampler ;  some  of  these  were 
large  and  elaborate  specimens  of 
handiwork  ;  framed  and  glazed,  they 
often  formed  the  chief  ornament  of  the 
sitting  room  or  the  best  chamber. 
When  the}-  merely  comprised  the  al- 
phabet, in  the  variously  designed  let- 
ters of  printing  and  writing,  finished 
by  a  verse  of  poetry,  or  a  text  from 
Scripture,  the  whole  enclosed  by  an  or- 
namental border,  the}'  were  quite  pret- 
ty specimens  of  needle  work  ;  but  some- 
times, when  more  ambitions  attempts 


OP   A   NCWAGESTARIAET. 


223 


were  exhibited,  they  were  sufficiently 
grotesque.  I  have  seen  wrought  under 
the  letters,  a  square,  three-storied  house 
flanked  by  a  pot  of  flowers,  the  pot, 
and  what  was  intended  for  a  rose  bush, 
as  tall  as  the  house,  with  a  horse  on 
the  other  side  twice  as  large  as  either. 
Pocket-books  and  cushions  worked  in 
crewel,  had  given  place  to  wrought 
muslin,  and  pictures  worked  on  satin. 
Mourning  pieces  were  in  vogue,  though 
some  preferred  scriptural  or  classical 
subjects.  One  could  conscientiously 
pronounce  these  productions  remarka- 
ble specimens  of  art.  The  needlework 
was  usually  very  neatly  executed,  but 
the  false  perspective  and  queerly  drawn 
figures,  rendered  most  of  them  "simply 
ridiculous."  Miss  Dod  had  some  hand- 
some copies  of  the  pictures  of  the 
Washington  family  executed  in  her 
school,  and  Mrs.  Katy  Brown's  school 
was  distinguished  for  the  pictures  exe- 
cuted by  its  pupils.  Sophronia  Pea- 
body,  of  this  school,  embroidered  a 
mourning  piece,  a  memorial  to  her  sis- 
ter Fila.  who  died  in  her  fifth  year. 
In  the  foreground,  on  a  green  mound 
stood  a  white  monument  surmounted 
by  an  urn  ;  the  front  of  the  pillar  bore 
the  name  and  age  of  the  deceased ; 
above  drooped  a  luxuriant  weeping  wil- 
low :  beside  the  tomb  knelt  a  lady,  clad 
in  the  height  of  French  fashion,  very 
properly  drying  her  tears  on  a  large 
handkerchief  in  the  right  hand  ;  beyond 
stretched  a  bit  of  landscape,  put  in  by 
Mrs  Brown  in  colored  chalks,  which 
showed  that  the  lady  had  a  fine  talent 
for  landscape  painting.  The  parting  of 
Hector  and  Andromache  was  a  favorite 
picture  amongst  the  girls  of  Mrs. 
Brown's  school.  The  couple  were  rep- 
resented in  a  final  embrace  on  the  por- 
tico of  a  palace.  Massive  pillars  sup- 


ported the  roof ;  the  floor  was  of  alter- 
nate squares  of  black  and  white,  repre- 
senting marble.  A  little  apart  stood 
the  nurse  bearing  the  infant  heir  in  her 
arms,  while  the  back  ground  showed  a 
a  plain  dotted  by  tents.  Coats  of 
arms  were  also  embroidered  on  white 
satin  with  colored  silk.  These  pictures 
were  tastefully  framed  by  Mrs.  Moses 
Cole.  Miss  Peabody's  was  framed  in 
gilt,  in  an  oval  of  enamel,  with  gold 
stars  in  the  corner. 

Miss  Man*  Ann  Colman  was  a  good 
teacher  of  water  color  painting;  the 
fruit  and  flower  pieces  executed  at 
her  school  were  natural  and  well  done. 
She  also  taught  painting  on  wood ; 
several  work-boxes  and  work-stands, 
painted  under  her  instruction,  are  still 
to  be  seen  in  the  residences  of  some  of 
our  older  citizens. 

Besides  these  schools  there  were  sev- 
eral noted  academies  in  the  vicinity. 
As  a  boarding-school  "finish"  was 
considered  requisite  to  complete  a  gen- 
teel education,  these  became  flourishing 
institutions.  The  academy  at  Atkin- 
son, N.  H.,  was  one  of  the  first  estab- 
lished in  New  England ;  that  at  Brad- 
ford had  been  founded  several  years. 
The  Lynn  academy  was  at  that  time  a 
noted  school.  When  Miss  Peabody 
was  fifteen,  it  was  decided  that  she 
should  receive  the  benefit  of  an  acade- 
mic course.  My  aunt,  who  was  piously 
inclined,  would  have  preferred  Brad- 
ford, but  as  Mr.  Leonard  Smith's 
youngest  daughter,  Sophia,  and  the 
daughters  of  several  of  Gen.  Peabody's 
Boston  friends  were  at  JLynn  academy, 
the  general  and  his  daughter  inclined 
to  that  seminary  ;  as  the  gentleman  that 
3'ear  represented  the  town  in  the  State 
legislature,  and  it  was  convenient  for 
Fronie  to  accompany  her  father  on  his 


224 


REMINISCENCES 


way  to  and  from  Boston.  Mondays  and 
Saturdays,  Lynn  received  the  prefer- 
ence. 

In  1807  the  Newburyport  academy 
was  incorporated.  Gen.  Peabody  was 
active  in  this  measure,  and  he  wa<  so 
much  pleased  with  Mrs.  Boardman,  the 
preceptress  of  the  Lj'nn  academy,  that 
through  his  endeavors  she  was  secured 
for  the  new  academy  at  Newburyport. 
Mr.  Amos  Clark  was  the  first  precep- 
tor, assisted  by  Mr.  Archibald  McPhail. 
Mr.  Chandler  succeeded  Mr.  Clark,  as- 
sisted l>\  Mr.  Adams.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Alfred  Pike  wer6  preceptor  and  pre- 
ceptress of  this  institution  for  several 
j-ears.  Later,  Mr.  Eben  Bailey,  son  of 
Mr.  Paul  Bailey  of  West  Newbury, 
taught  a  large  private  school  in  New- 
bur}-port.  Mrs.  Lord  was  the  principal 
of  an  excellent  school  at  the  academy. 
Her  pupils  executed  many  fine  paintings 
in  water  colors  ;  some  of  their  paintings 
of  fruit  and  flowers  on  white  velvet 
were  very  beautiful.  This  lady's  mar- 
riage with  Dr.  Richard  S.  Spofford, 
was  regarded  by  her  pupils  and  the 
public  as  a  loss  to  which  they  could 
scarcely  have  been  reconciled,  had  they 
not  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  her  hap- 
piness and  usefulness  amongst  them  in 
a  different  sphere. 

Master  Cheever  and  Master  Whit- 
more  for  manj-  years  were  noted  teach- 
ers in  Newbury. 

The  first  Sabbath  school  in  Massa- 
chusetts was  organized  in  Newburyport 
in  1814.  These  schools  were  held  in 
the  chapel  of  the  North  church,  a  small 
wooden  building  on  Titcomb  street,  and 
that  of  the  Old  South  church,  a  dingy 
brick  edifice  on  the  upper  side  of  Beck 
street.  The  school  at  the  North  was 
formed  by  Miss  Phebe  Harrod,  Miss 
Louiza  Farnham,  who  married  the  Rev. 


Dr.  Orville  Dewey,  and  Miss  Eliza  Epps 
Carter,  who  became  the  wife  of  the  Rev. 
David  Kimb'all,  of  Rockford,  111.  That 
at  the  Old  South,  was  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Miss  Ann  Wheelwright,  who 
first  married  Mr.  Samuel  Adams  of  the 
Newburyport  Academy,  second  her 
cousin  John  Wheelwright.  Miss  Dolly 
Greenleaf,  afterward  Mrs.  Pearson  of 
Portland,  Maine,  and  Miss  Eliza  Gould, 
who  became  Mrs.  Rappello  of  New 
York  city.  Four  of  these  ladies,  Miss 
Harrod,  Mrs.  Dewe}',  Mrs.  Kimball 
and  Mrs.  Rapello,  are  still  living  in  the 
enjoyment  of  a  hale  old  age. 

In  1817  a  union  school  from  each  of 
the  societies  in  the  town  was  organized 
at  the  Court  House. 

Mr.  John  Pearson  was  the  first  sup- 
erintendent, he  was  succeeded  by  Mr. 
Samuel  Tenney  and  William  B.  Bannis- 
ter, esq.  This  continued  a  year  or  two, 
then  the  different  societies  formed  a 
school  for  themselves  as  at  present,  but 
for  a  time  an  annual  union  service  was 
held  in  Parson  Milton's  meeting-house, 
the  children  with  their  teachers  occupy- 
ing the  wide  galleries  of  the  spacious 
building.  A  union  teachers'  meeting 
was  also  continued  for  some  time. 

Miss  Maiy  Hodge  was  one  of  the 
most  active  and  efficient  amongst  the 
first  Sabbath  school  teachers. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

At  an  early  date,  the  colonists  of 
Newbury  commenced  the  construction 
of  water  craft.  The  first  vessels  de- 
signed for  fishing  and  the  coasting 
trade  were  built  on  the  river  Parker. 
As  the  settlement  increased,  the  water- 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


225 


side  people  became  largely  engaged  in 
shipbuilding ;  many  vessels,  as  I  have 
previousl}"  stated,  being  built  for  Eng- 
lish owners.  The  first  ferry  across  the 
Merrimac  was  at  Carr's  Island,  and  one 
of  the  first  building  yards  was  estab- 
lished there  by  Mr.  George  Carr.  I 
have  stated  that  my  great-grandfather 
Johnson's  father  had  a  shipyard  as  early 
as  1695,  near  the  bottom  of  Chandler's 
lane,  now  Federal  street,  and  the  busi- 
ness was  continued  in  the  Johnson 
family  for  two  or  three  generations. 
In  1759  Mr.  Gideon  Woodwell  owned 
a  yard  near  the  foot  of  Muzzey's  lane, 
now  Marlborough  street,  and  as  early 
as  1730,  Mr.  Samuel  Moggaridge  had 
a  dwelling  house  and  building  yard  at 
the  rocky  point  farther  up  the  river, 
afterwards  known  as  Moggaridge's 
point.  At  that  time  Mr.  Ralph  Cross 
was  a  prominent  builder,  and  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Gerrish  had  an  extensive  yard 
reaching  from  South,  now  Bromfield 
street,  to  Somerby's  court,  and  from  the 
river  back  to  Hancock  street.  Ship 
yards  were  scattered  along  the  river 
bank  from  Pierce' s  farm  to  Mogga- 
ridge's point.  In  the  summer  of  1766 
seventy-two  vessels  were  upon  the 
stocks,  all  in  process  of  construction. 
During  the  Revolution  many  privateers 
were  built  in  Newbury  and  Newbury- 
port.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  ship 
building  again  became  active,  but  the 
ships  of  those  daj-s  were  small,  none 
exceeding  two  to  three  hundred  tons  bur- 
then. About  1790  Mr.  Elias  Jackman 
established  a  shipyard  near  the  Chain 
bridge.  This  bridge,  built  under  the 
supervision  of  Mr.  Timothy  Palmer, 
was  opened  to  the  public  November 
26,  1792.  About  this  time  Mr.  Orlando 
B.  Merrill  established  himself  in  ship 
building  at  Bellevilleport.  Mr.  Mer- 


rill was  the  inventor  of  the  water-line 
model.  Previous,  only  skeleton  models 
had  been  used.  There  were  several 
other  prominent  ship  builders  at  the 
"  Shipyards  ;  "  Mr.  Elias  Briggs  sent 
forth  a  large  number  of  vessels,  and 
the  }-ards  of  Messrs.  Stephen  and  Ben- 
jamin Dalton,  Joseph  Coffin,  and  Messrs. 
Jonathan  and  Thomas  Merrill,  from 
year  to  year  resounded  with  the  cheery 
sounds  of  industry. 

I  have  stated  that  Major  Ephraim 
Emery  married  Miss  Mary,  daughter 
of  Mr.  Peter  Russell  of  Bradford,  who 
was  a  distinguished  shipbuilder.  Their 
oldest  daughter,  Mary  Emery,  married 
Capt.  John  Remick.  This  gentleman 
was  engaged  in  ship  building  as  a  mas- 
ter carpenter  during  his  life.  In  his  lat- 
ter years  Maj.  Emery  resided  with  his 
daughter  and  son-in-law  at  their  resi- 
dence in  Bellevilleport,  and  there  the 
old  revolutionary  hero,  who  for  several 
years  had  patiently  borne  the  affliction 
of  blindness,  breathed  his  last  in  1825, 
aged  67. 

At  the  south  end,  Mr.  Gideon  Wood- 
well  had  been  succeeded  by  his  son, 
Capt.  John  Woodwell,  who  carried  on 
an  extensive  business  at  this  period. 
Immediately  preceding  the  great  fire 
of  1811,  many  small  craft  and  boats 
were  built  at  the  south  end. 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 

Though  the  European  troubles  had 
impeded  commerce,  Newbury  port  was 
as  prosperous  as  her  sister  seaports. 
Her  foreign,  West  India  and  coasting 
trade,  combined  with  the  country  traf- 
fic, caused  the  wharves  and  business 
29 


226 


REMINISCENCES 


streets  to  wear  the  aspect  of  a  thriving 
mart. 

The  first  wharf  at  the  ' '  water  side  " 
was  built  in  1656,  near  the  site  of  the 
present  Market  house,  by  Mr.  Paul 
White,  along  with  a  dock,  warehouse 
and  stillhouse.  In  1678,  Marchant 
(Richard)  Dole  procured  the  grant  of 
land  lying  near  "Watts  his  cellar," 
where  he  built  a  wharf  and  dock. 
"  Watts  his  cellar"  was  also  in  what  is 
now  Market  square.  In  1680  the  town 
granted  liberty  to  Ensign  Stephen 
Greenleaf  and  Mr.  Daniel  Davidson  to 
build  a  wharf  at  the  point  of  rocks 
above  "  Watts  his  cellar."  The  same 
year  Nathaniel  Clark  obtained  a  por- 
tion of  the  flats,  upon  which  to  build  a 
wharf.  The  town  also  voted  to  grant 
the  petition  of  Benjamin  Rolfe,  Doctor 
John  Dole,  and  Richard  Dole,  for  four 
or  live  rods  on  the  flats,  from  Watt's 
cellar  spring  to  Ensign  Greenleaf's,  for 
a  place  to  build  a  wharf.  Robert  Co- 
ker,  in  the  behalf  of  his  son,  Benjamin 
Coker,  proposed  for  a  place  to  make  a 
wharf.  Year  after  year  other  wharves 
were  added  down  the  river  until  a  con- 
tinuous line  stretched  from  the  ship 
yards  to  Joppa. 

In  the  year  1811  the  first  was  Pills- 
bury 's  wharf  at  the  foot  of  North,  now 
Oakland  street.  The  second  was  Se- 
vier's,  near  the  foot  of  Broad  street. 
The  distillery  of  William  and  Abraham 
Williams  stood  near  the  head  of  this 
wharf,  just  below  the  residence  built  by 
Capt.  Sevier,  afterwards  purchased  by 
Joseph  Williams,  jr.,  from  which  the 
wharf  was  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Williams  wharf.  Richard's  and  Cald- 
well's  wharves  came  next.  Below  was 
that  of  Major  Samuel  Coffin.  This 
wharf  ran  out  into  deep  water ;  upon 
it  was  another  large  distillery,  and 


twenty  sail  of  vessel  could  be  seen 
there  at  a  time,  discharging  cargoes  of 
molasses  from  the  West  Indies.  Hor- 
ton's  and  Newman's  wharves  ranged 
below.  Moses  Brown's  was  at  the  foot 
of  Green  street.  Here  was  a  third 
distillery,  and  this  was  the  focus  of 
Mr.  Brown's  extensive  business.  Tit- 
comb's  wharf  came  next ;  then,  Green- 
leaf's,  Ferry,  Boardman's.  O'Brien's, 
Jackson's,  Jewett's,  Atwood's,  Car- 
ter's, Marquand's,  Hudson's,  and  Dav- 
enport's. Below  was  Lunt's  mast 
yard ;  then  came  Haskell's.  Bartlet's, 
Johnson's  and  Coombs'  wharves.  The 
lower  wharf  was  owned  by  Maj.  David 
Coffin,  who  was  then  one  of  the  most 
thriving  merchants. 

At  that  time  every  vessel  placed 
upon  the  stocks  was  wholly  completed 
and  equipped  for  sea  before  it  sailed 
over  the  bar.  This  brought  a  multi- 
plicity of  business  to  the  town.  Along 
the  wharves  stretched  lofty  warehouses 
crowded  with  merchandise.  Carts  and 
dniys  rattled  up  and  down,  incoming 
and  outgoing  vessels  came  and  wenf , 
the  merry  songs  and  ' '  heave  ho's  "  of 
the  sailors,  blended  with  the  cheery 
tones  and  hearty  jests  of  the  steve- 
dores, carts  from  the  interior  unloaded 
and  loaded  —  at  every  turn  was  bustle, 
industry  and  activity.  Here  were  the 
spacious  sail  and  rigging  lofts,  pump 
and  block  makers'  shops,  and  ship 
chandlers  stores,  every  thing  that  per- 
tained to  maritime  trade.  Mr.  Joshua 
Norton,  Joseph  Stanwood  and  the 
Messrs.  Davis  and  Haynes,  had  large 
sail  lofts  ;  Thomas  Prichard  a  rigging 
loft  on  Ferry  wharf;  Enoch  Toppau 
a  block  maker's  shop  on  Carter's 
wharf.  Maj.  Joshua  Greenleaf  did 
most  of  the  ship  iron  work  at  his  large 
smithy  on  Liberty  street.  Mr.  Gor- 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


227 


don  had  a  similar  establishment  at 
Bellevilleport.  This  gentleman  was 
somewhat  economical  in  his  house- 
hold. At  that  period  cheese  was  a 
customary  appendage  of  the  dinner 
table,  being  considered  an  accessor}'  to 
digestion.  Mr.  Gordon  employed 
several  workmen.  One  day  a  large 
cheese  was  placed  on  the  table ;  after 
the  meat  had  been  disposed  of,  Mr. 
Gordon  took  a  knife  to  cut  the  cheese  ; 
turning  it  over,  he  exclaimed,  "  this  is 
a  good  cheese,  a  pretty  cheese,  too 
good  to  spoil !  "  and  laying  down  the 
knife,  he  rose  and  called  his  men  to  their 
work.  That  afternoon  a  large  anchor 
was  to  be  forged,  the  fire  was  kindled, 
the  iron  heated. 

"That  is  a  good  heat!"  exultantly 
exclaimed  the  master. 

"A  good  heat,"  with  one  voice  re- 
sponded the  men. 

"•A  grand  heat,"  reiterated  the  mas- 
ter. 

"A  grand  heat,"  again  responded  the 
men. 

"Then  why  don't  you  strike?"  im- 
patiently demanded  the  master. 

"It  is  a  good  heat?"  queried  the 
foreman. 

"Yes,  yes,  strike,  strike  I  tell  ye," 
hurriedly  ordered  the  master  in  a  quick 
authoritative  tone.  "  Strike,  strike." 

"Don't  }'ou  think  it  is  too  good  a 
heat  to  spoil?"  quietly  returned  the 
foreman,  while  not  an  arm  was  uplifted. 

The  hint  was  taken ;  the  cheese 
brought  with  a  loaf  of  brown  bread. 
The  luncheon  eaten  and  well  washed 
down  with  grog,  the  anchor  was  forged 
with  a  will.  Mr.  Kenniston  had  then 
just  set  up  his  forge  at  the  shipyards. 
Sargent's  gunsmith  shop  was  on  Water 
street,  and  Mr.  Joseph  George  did  an 
extensive  blacksmith's  business  at  his 


stand  on  Inn  street.  Mr.  Robert 
Dodge  had  a  smithy  on  High  street  for 
carriage  work.  Carriage  building,  which 
for  many  years  had  been  a  thriving 
business  on  the  main  road,  had  just 
been  introduced  at  Belleville. 

In  1785,  before  Washington  street 
was  laid  out,  Mr.  John  Tracy  had  a 
rope-walk  running  from  the  Quaker 
burying  ground  to  the  river.  A  Mr. 
Crocker  at  an  early  date  built  a  rope- 
walk  on  State  street,  running  from 
where  the  Whitefield  church  now  stands 
towards  Fair  street.  He  afterwards 
built  another  near  Frog  pond, which  sub- 
sequently became  the  property  of  a  Mr. 
Cummings.  When  the  Newburyport 
turnpike  was  built  it  was  laid  out  di- 
rectly through  this  walk,  which  conse- 
quently was  removed.  Mr.  Cummings 
in  company  with  a  Mr.  Akerman  aftei;- 
wards  did  business  in  a  walk  running 
from  South,  now  Bromfield,  to  Marlbo- 
rough  streets.  Abel  Greenleaf  had 
a  walk  which  ran  from  State  street, 
where  stands  the  store  of  Capt.  John 
Buntin,  to  Green  street.  E.  Swett 
built  a  walk  which  extended  from  Fair 
to  Federal,  opposite  Charter  street ; 
this  afterwards  was  purchased  by  Na- 
thaniel Tracy  ;  and  Mr.  Swett  built  an- 
other running  from  Federal  to  Lime 
streets.  Moses  Kent  built  one  from 
Federal  to  Fair  street,  where  Orange 
street  now  is ;  this  was  moved  to  the 
south  side  of  Federal  street,  where  it 
became  the  property  of  Edward  Wig- 
glesworth  ;  afterwards  it  was  purchased 
by  Robert  Gardner  and  moved  to  South 
street,  where,  in  company  with  a  Mr. 
Laskey,  a  large  business  was  done  at 
the  time  of  the  great  fire.  Messrs. 
Eleazer  Johnson,  and  Young  and  Pet- 
tingell  had  walks  extending  from  South 
to  Marlborough  streets.  Andrew  Laskey 


228 


REMINISCENCES 


had  a  walk  on  Milk  street  which  ran 
to  Water  street.  Mr.  Green  Pearson 
one  from  Washington  to  Water  street ; 
this  was  I  think  the  walk  built  by  Mr. 
John  Tracy.  Edward  Wigglesworth 
built  one  which  ran  from  Lime  to  South 
street  above  Newbury ;  this  was  sold 
to  Eleazer  Johnson,  moved  south  of 
South  street,  and  afterwards  owned  by 
Andrew  Laskey,  and  finally  by  Mr. 
George  Donnell,  who  is  still  living, 
1880,  the  oldest  man  in  the  city. 
E.  &  I.  Swett  built  a  walk  south  of 
Maryborough  street.  The  Gardner 
rope-walk  was  afterwards  owned  by 
David  Evans,  whose  sons  went  into  the 
cordage  business  in  other  towns.  Near 
that  Deacon  Amos  Pettingell  built  a 
walk  which  later  was  owned  b}"  Pettin- 
gell and  Donnell.  Eleazer  Johnson 
built  another  near  the  last  named  which 
was  afterwards  owned  by  Mr.  Worm- 
stead  and  son. 

Below,  in  Newbury,  skirting  the  river 
and  round  ' '  Flat-iron  point,"  was  an 
irregular  collection  of  small  low  houses, 
forming  the  fishing  hamlet  of  Joppa. 
Here  in  the  season  the  river  bank  would 
often  be  lined  with  wherries  which  had 
just  been  brought  in  loaded  with  fish, 
which  the  sun-burned,  bare-footed  wom- 
en, in  brown  homespun  short  gown  and 
petticoat  tucked  to  the  knee,  with  the 
older  children,  aided  the  toil-worn  fish- 
ermen to  carry  to  the  great  fish-flakes 
on  the  uplands  below  the  long  rope- 
walks.  Round  the  open  doors  toddled 
wee,  white-haired  urchins,  while  others 
sailed  ships  and  mimic  boats  in  the 
pools  and  eddies  of  the  flats. 

Beside  the  distilleries  I  have  men- 
tioned, Mr.  Joseph  Williams  had  a 
large  establishment  at  the  foot  of 
Strong  street,  and  Caldwell's  on  Mer- 
rimac  street  was  even  then  noted,  for 


its  rum,  anise  and  other  cordials.  Mr. 
John  Berry  Titcomb  had  a  bakery  and 
flour  store  back  of  the  North  church, 
and  Mr.  Gunnison  carried  on  an  exten- 
sive business  on  Titcomb  street.  Pu- 
laski  Woodman  had  a  bake-house  near 
the  head  of  Market  street,  and  Messrs. 
Theodore  and  John  Pearson's  bakeries 
were  on  Centre  street.  Mr.  Samuel 
Wheeler  had  a  bake-house  and  store  on 
the  same  street,  and  Ebenezer  Pearson 
one  on  Middle  street. 

On  the  site  of  the  present  Market 
house  was  a  row  of  low,  open  butcher's 
shambles,  occupied  by  Mr.  David  Ten- 
nej',  Jeremiah  Cohnan  and  David  Em- 
ery, these  two  doing  business  as  the 
firm  of  Colman  &  Emery.  In  addition 
a  number  of  butcher's  carts  came  in 
two  or  three  times  a  week  from  adja- 
cent towns.  These  after  supplying 
their  customers,  occupied  a  stand  in 
Market  square.  Previous  to  the  de- 
molition of  the  meeting-house,  it  was 
their  custom  to  range  back  of  that 
building  with  other  country  traders,  a 
row  of  oat  troughs  having  been  nailed 
to  the  sacred  edifice  for  the  purpose  of 
baiting  horses.  The  chief  of  these  out 
of  town  butchers  at  that  time  were 
Mr.  John  Follansbee  and  his  son  John, 
and  Mr.  Samuel  Bailey  from  the  upper 
parish  in  Newbury,  and  Mr.  Williams 
from  the  lower  parish ;  Mr.  Clements, 
Mr.  Kendrick,  and  Capt.  Sawyer  from 
Amesbury.  Mr.  John  Dodge  had  a 
large  soap  and  candle  manufactory  near 
Market  square.  At  the  north  end 
were  the  wool  pulling  and  leather  dress- 
ing establishment  of  Messrs.  Butler 
Abbott  and  Henry  Merrill.  Above 
were  two  large  tanneries  owned  by  Mr. 
John  Balch  and  Mr.  Eben  Savory,  each 
of  whom  carried  on  an  extensive  bus- 
iness. 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN". 


229 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

The  town  had  been  greatly  improved 
in  the  past  ten  or  fifteen  years ;  new 
streets  had  been  laid  out  and  graded, 
and  many  fine  stores  and  dwellings 
erected.  State  street  as  a  whole  pre- 
sented a  view  of  two-storied  wooden 
buildings,  mostly  painted  pale  }Tellow, 
with  green  blinds  or  shutters.  Inter- 
spersed were  lofty  brick  blocks  and  ed- 
ifices, and  on  the  lower  side  adjoining 
Water  street  was  a  row  of  old,  un- 
painted  buildings,  remnants  of  the  more 
ancient  town.  On  the  upper  side  of 
the  street,  the  first  house  from  High 
was  an  old  fashioned  one  with  a  long, 
sloping  back  roof.  Here  lived  "Scrab- 
ble "  Titcomb.  How  he  obtained  this 
sobriquet  I  am  unable  to  say.  Next 
were  the  new  and  palatial  residences 
of  Mr.  Joshua  Carter  and  Gen.  John 
Peabody.  On  the  opposite  corner  of 
Harris  street  lived  Master  Pike,  in  a 
large,  substantial  house  ;  then  came  the 
Tracy  mansion,  at  that  time  occupied 
by  Jacob  Coburn  as  a  hotel.  The  next 
was  an  old  wooden  structure,  occupied 
by  the  widow  Wood ;  the  next  be- 
longed to  Mrs.  Burt ;  Mrs.  Searle  also 
occupied  it  as  a  dwelling,  and  shop  for 
dry  goods  and  milliner}-.  Below  was 
the  old  Wyatt  house  then  occupied  by 
Mr.  Ebenezer  Stedman.  .  On  the  up- 
per corner  of  Pleasant  street  stood  Dr. 
Micajah  Saw3'er's  handsome  residence  ; 
on  the  other  corner  the  year  previous  a 
large  three-stor}-  wooden  block  had 
been  built.  Here  Cornhill  commenced  ; 
before  the  street  had  been  graded 
this  was  quite  an  eminence,  high  and 
warm  land ;  for  years  it  was  planted 
with  corn,  and  thus  obtained  its  name. 
The  corner  store  in  the  block  was  oc- 
cupied by  Arthur  Gilman  for  dry 


goods  ;  then  came  those  of  Paul  Noyes, 
John  Porter,  Pierce  &  Gordon,  Moses 
Kimball,  jr.,  Francis  Somerby,  and 
William  Hoj't.  William  Francis  had  a 
hair  dressing  shop  at  the  lower  end. 
The  upper  rooms  were  let  to  Joseph  T. 
Pike  and  Paul  Bishop,  tailors ;  James 
Hodge,  shoemaker  ;  and  the  law  offices 
of  Edward  St.  Loe  Livermore,  Little  & 
Bannister,  and  John  Stuart.  Next,  on 
the  lower  corner  of  "Thread-needle 
alle}7,"  came  the  "  Wolfe  Tavern,"  a 
two-story,  wooden  building,  somewhat 
dingy  with  age  ;  before  the  principal 
entrance,  which  was  reached  by  a  flight 
of  steps  from  the  sidewalk,  from  a  tall 
post  swung  the  sign,  a  likeness  of  Gen. 
Wolfe  ;  from  this  sign  the  house  de- 
rived its  name.  This  was  also  the 
"Eastern  Stage  Company's"  house; 
to  and  from  its  doors  rattled  the  gaud- 
ily painted  stage  coaches,  and  in  the 
rear  its  numerous  fine  horses  were  sta- 
bled. This  house  for  many  }*ears  had 
been  kept  by  Moses  Davenport,  but 
latterly  it  had  passed  into  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Prince  Stetson.  Below  the  "Wolfe 
Tavern"  was  the  '-Phoenix  Building," 
an  imposing  four- storied  brick  struct- 
ure, a  fine  specimen  of  architecture, 
with  handsome  copings,  and  between 
the  upper  windows,  arched  niches  orna- 
mented with  statues.  Here  was  the 
custom  house,  Ralph  Cross,  collector ; 
the  post  office,  Caleb  Cross,  post  mas- 
ter ;  the  office  of  the  Phoenix  Insurance 
Compan}' ;  the  remainder  of  the  lower 
floor  was  improved  by  Philip  Bagle}r  and 
son,  auctioneers,  and  Joseph  Jackman, 
dry  goods.  Prince  Stetson  had  hired 
the  chambers  as  additional  sleeping 
rooms  to  his  hotel ;  the  fourth  story  was 
"Madison  hall."  Below  the  Phcenix 
came  Blunt's  building,  a  second  large 
four-storied  brick  block ;  the  stores 


230 


REMINISCENCES 


were  occupied  by  Joseph  Hooper,  crock- 
ery. Joseph  Coolidge  and  Moses  Os- 
good,  dry  goods  ;  Howard  S.  Robinson 
improved  part  of  the  chambers  as  a 
dwelling,  the  others  were  rented  to 
Charles  Norris  &  Co.  for  a  printing  of- 
fice, and  David  Fairman,  an  engraver. 
Next  came  Peabody's  corner,  three 
stores ;  here  Samuel  Stevens  had  a 
hardware  store,  John  Chickering  one 
for  dry  goods,  and  Thomas  C.  Whipple 
a  book  store  ;  above,  in  the  chambers, 
were  the  Nowburyport  library,  and 
Benjamin  Lord,  tailor. 

The  first  building  on  the  lower  corner 
of  State  street,  from  High  street,  was 
the  handsome  brick  house  built  by  John 
Berry  Titcomb.  Next  came  the  ele- 
gant Dalton  establishment,  then  owned 
and  occupied  by  Moses  Brown.  Dr. 
Andrews,  pastor  of  the  First  church, 
I'esided  in  the  third  house  ;  next  came 
those  of  Mrs.  C'arr,  and  Jonathan 
Marsh,  esq.  The  Balc'h  place  came  to 
the  corner  of  Temple  street.  Col. 
Stephen  Bartlett's  house  was  on  the 
lower  corner ;  then  came  the  Moulton 
house,  and  that  of  David  Wood.  Be- 
low was  the  bank  building,  Newbury- 
port  Bank,  William  Bartlet,  president, 
and  Samuel  Mulliken,  cashier;  the  re- 
mainder of  the  building  being  occupied 
by  Mrs.  Bodily  as  a  boarding  house. 
The  next  lot,  extending  to  Essex 
street,  had  been  occupied  by  the  Town 
hall.  In  1809.  Gen.  John  Peabody 
offered  to  erect  a  handsome  three-story 
brick  block  on  this  site,  the  upper 
story  of  which  he  would  furnish  as  a 
hall  for  the  town,  to  be  known  as  the 
"  Town  hall,"  with  whatever  rooms 
should  be  desired  for  public  use  in  the 
other  stories,  if  the  town  would  convey 
to  him  the  old  town-house  and  the  land 
upon  which  it  stood.  The  town  ac- 


cepted this  proposal,  and  the  present 
block  was  erected.  The  "  Town  hall  " 
was  finished  and  furnished  in  the  best 
style.  The  names  of  the  States  were 
painted  above  the  windows,  with  other 
appropriate  decorations.  In  the  sec- 
ond story  was  a  room  for  the  select- 
men, and  the  watch-house  was  in  the  L 
on  Essex  street.  The  first  three  stores 
were  occupied  b}-  James  Caldwell, 
Prescott  Spalding,  and  David  Peabody 
&  Co. ,  for  dry  goods ;  below  was  the 
book  and  chart  store  of  Ebenezer 
Stedman,  sign  of  the  golden  ball ;  the 
store  on  the  corner  of  Essex  street  was 
rented  by  Solomon  Davis,  for  dry 
goods,  and  the  upper  rooms  were  occu- 
pied b}'  Sam'l  L.  Knapp  and  other  law- 
yers and  persons,  as  offices.  On  the 
lower  corner  of  Essex  street  was  Ste- 
phen Greeley's  shoe  store.  Next  came 
the  old  Clement  house.  Here,  when  I 
was  a  child,  a  man  walked  across  State 
street  on  a  tight  rope,  stretched  from 
one  of  its  chimneys  to  that  of  the 
"  Wolfe  Tavern,"  an  event  which  made 
no  little  sensation  in  the  staid  town. 
Below  were  Osgood  &  Brackett,  shoe 
makers  ;  John  Knowlton,  cabinet  mak- 
er ;  Jonathan  Woodman,  jr.,  silver- 
smith ;  Merrill's  boarding  house  ;  Bar- 
ber Newman's  shop  ;  Ebenezer  Dole's 
variety  store,  and  Daniel  N.  Dole,  sil- 
versmith. In  the  chamber  above  this 
store  Obadiah  Pearson  worked  at  tailor- 
ing. The  two  last  stores  were  those  of 
Oilman  White,  crockery  and  glass,  and 
Moses  Cole,  painter  and  gilder. 

George  Little,  the  first  of  that  name 
in  Newbury.  had  two  sons,  who  mar- 
ried two  daughters  of  Tristram  Coffin. 
Capt.  Joseph  married  Mary,  and  Moses 
Lydia.  Each  of  these  had  a  son  named 
Tristram.  One  of  these  Tristram  Lit- 
tles owned  the  property  from  Market 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


231 


square  to  Fair  street,  between  Liberty 
and  Water  streets.  On  his  estate  he 
built  a  princely  mansion,  which  at  this 
time  stood  a  little  back  from  State 
street.  Though  hoary  with  age,  it  still 
retained  much  of  its  ancient  elegance, 
and  was  the  home  of  two  bachelor 
brothers,  Michael  and  Hazen  Little, 
descendants  of  Tristram  Little.  Tris- 
tram (son  of  Capt.  Joseph  Little)  mar- 
ried Anna,  daughter  of 'Stephen  Em- 
ery. Their  oldest  child,  Mary  Little, 
married  Capt.  Michael  Dalton,  whose 
son,  Tristram  Dalton,  was  born  in 
Newburyport,  May  28,  1738,  and 
graduated  at  Harvard  University  at  the 
early  age  of  seventeen.  He  studied 
law  as  an  accomplishment,  the  fortune 
which  he  inherited  from  his  father  not 
requiring  him  to  practice  it  as  a  pro- 
fession. His  wife  was  Ruth,  eldest 
daughter  of  Robert  Hooper,  of  Mar- 
blehead.  Mr.  Dalton  took  a  deep  in- 
terest in  agriculture  and  horticulture, 
which  was  shown  in  the  extensive  gar- 
den of  his  residence  on  State  street. 
and  his  estate  on  Pi  pest  a  ve  hill.  West 
Newbury-  His  was  a  most  hospitable 
mansion ;  his  town  and  country  houses 
were  honored  by  the  presence  of  the 
distinguished  of  our  own  and  foreign 
lands  as  guests.  As  eminent  for  piety 
as  he  was  for  mental  endowments,  St. 
Paul's  church,  of  which  he  was  a  war- 
den, shared  in  his  generous  liberality, 
lie  was  a  representative,  speaker  of 
the  House  of  Representatives,  and  a 
senator  in  the  legislature  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  a  senator  of  the  l'nit"d 
States  in  the  first  congress  after  the 
adoption  of  the  federal  constitution. 
When  Washington  City  was  founded, 
Mr.  Dalton  invested  his  entire  fortune 
in  lands  there,  and  lost  it  by  the  mis- 
management of  a  business  agent.  At 


the  same  time  a  vessel,  which  was 
freighted  with  his  furniture  and  valua- 
ble library,  was  lost  on  the  way  from 
Newburyport  to  Washington,  and  he 
thus  found  himself,  after  living  sixty 
years  in  affluence,  penniless.  Several 
offices  of  profit  and  honor  were  imme- 
diately tendered  to  him  by  the  govern- 
ment, and  he  accepted  the  surveyorship 
of  Boston.  He  died  in  Boston,  May 
30,  1817,  and  his  remains  were  taken 
to  Newburyport,  where  they  were  in- 
terred in  the  burial  ground  of  St. 
Paul's  church. 

Round  the  corner  of  Middle  street 
was  James  Kirnball's  grocery  store, 
Whittingham  and  John  Oilman's  book 
store,  and  Nathan  Ames,  shoemaker. 
Above  was  the  Herald  office,  Ephraim 
Allen,  editor  and  printer  ;  beyond  was 
the  dwelling  and  milliner's  shop  of 
Mrs.  Jones.  Thomas  Dodge's  house 
and  joiner  shop,  Hannah  Bradbury's 
house  and  milliner  shop,  and  the  dwell- 
ing house  of  Nancy  and  Eliza  Batchel- 
der,  milliners.  On  this  street  were  the 
cabinet  and  chair  making  shops  of 
Clark  Morss,  Elijah  Bliss,  Southy  Par- 
ker, Daniel  Abbott,  E.  Dole,  G.  Parker, 
'and  S.  Dole ;  and  the  groceries  of 
E.  Dole,  P.  Tenney  and  P.  Thiirlo. 
On  Market  square  were  Samuel  Thomp- 
son, tobacconist,  Joseph  Lesley's  coop- 
er shop.  Ed\v:ird  Rand's  dwelling  house 
and  hardware  store,  Daniel  Smith  and. 
Aaron  Davis,  apothecaries,  Enoch 
Plummer,  Ephraim  Titcomb  and  Moses 
Moody,  groceries  ;  Anthony  Smith  kepi 
hardware  and  groceries,  and  Perkins 
&  Dean  kept  two  stores  for  hardware. 
Here  were  John  M.  O'Brien's  attorney's 
ollice,  and  Daniel  Balch's  shop  for 
watch  making ;  James  Locke's,  Ed- 
ward Toppan,  jr's.,  James  Kimball's, 
Francis  Todd's,  and  Samuel  Foster's 


232 


REMINISCENCES 


dry  goods  stores  ;  Edward  Little  &  Go's 
book  store  ;  over  this  store  was  Enoch 
Pike's  tailoring  establishment.  The 
office  of  the  Union  Insurance  Company, 
Stephen  Holland,  president,  and  the 
residence  of  Dr.  Bradstreet,  were  on 
the  square,  with  Thomas  Male's  hatter's 
shop  and  two  ship  chandlery  stores  be- 
longing to  Abner  Wood  and  Major 
Joshua  Greenleaf.  On  Liberty  street 
were  the  residences  of  Major  Joshua 
Greenleaf,  Ephraim  Allen,  and  the  old 
Emerson  house.  Below  the  market,  on 
Water  street,  were  John  Wood's  ware- 
house at  the  head  of  Feny  wharf,  and 
the  groceries  of  Daniel  Burnham,  Wil- 
liam Baj-le}',  Joseph  Edwards,  Benja- 
min G.  Sweetser,  Moses  Sweet,  Moses 
Clark,  and  Widow  Greenleaf ;  William 
Boardman  kept  hardware,  groceries, 
paints,  etc.  Next  to  Mr.  Bay  ley's 
grocery  was  Billy  Watkins'  property  : 
two  houses  and  stores,  with  two  back 
stores.  This  Billy  Watkins,  an  ec- 
centric old  bachelor,  was  one  of  the 
notorieties  of  the  town.  Below  was 
Humphrey  Cook's  hatter's  shop,  and 
that  of  Thomas  Lord ;  David  Moody 
and  Thomas  Moodj'  had  malt  houses, 
Mrs.  Richardson  a  milliner's  shop,* 
Joseph  O'Brien's  house  and  store, 
the  Harrod  house,  and  Joseph  Brown, 
auctioneer.  John  Hart's  tavern, 
Benjamin  Appleton's  hatter's  shop, 
Mann  Seward's  boarding  house,  a 
boarding  house  kept  by  Hannah  Prime, 
Joseph  Toppan's  house  and  d^-  goods 
store,  Stephen  Gerrish  &  Son's  house 
mid  dry  goods  store,  John  Greenough, 
hatter,  Clement  Star,  house  and  shop, 
T.  &  A.  Wheeler,  grocery  and  board- 
ing house,  Benjamin  H.  Toppan,  cop- 
persmith, Timothy  T.  Ford's  house  and 
dry  goods  store,  and  Capt.  Duulap's 
house  and  shop.  At  the  head  of  Mar- 


quand's  wharf  was  the  residence  of 
Joseph  Marquand,  a  spacious  and 
handsome  mansion ;  several  of  the 
neighboring  buildings  were  his  prop- 
erty, and  below  on  the  wharf  his  six 
spacious  warehouses. 

Mr.  Abraham  Jackson's  place  of 
business  was  on  the  corner  of  Centre 
street,  and  he  had  two  large  ware- 
houses on  his  wharf.  Mr.  Joseph 
Moulton  and  his  son  William,  had  a 
large  jeweller's  and  silversmith's  shop 
on  Broadway.  Mr.  David  Wood 
made  clocks,  in  a  shop  which  was  one 
of  the  front  rooms  of  his  dwelling 
house  on  State  street.  It  was  common 
to  convert  the  front  room  of  a  house 
into  a  shop.  Most  of  the  smaller 
groceries  and  variety  stores  were  kept 
in  this  wa}-.  A  door  led  from  the 
shop  into  the  living  rooms  of  the  fam- 
ily ;  thus  the  mistress  of  the  domicile 
could  tend  the  shop,  while  attending 
to  her  household  duties.  Mr.  Wood's 
clocks  were  the  tall,  mahogany-cased 
time-keepers  then  fashionable.  The 
dial,  in  addition  to  the  usual  face,  was 
furnished  with  a  second  hand  ;  some 
told  the  day  of  the  month,  the  maker's 
name  being  inserted  in  the  centre, 
below  a  bouquet  of  roses.  These 
clocks  were  in  great  demand,  scarcely 
a  house  was  without  them  in  all  the 
region  about.  Mr.  Samuel  T.  DeFord 
and  Charles  L.  Emerson  carried  on  a 
large  business  in  hats  and  furs  on 
Merrimac  street.  Mr.  Porter  Russell 
Messrs.  Edward  and  Abner  Toppan 
did  a  large  business  in  the  manufacture 
and  sale  of  furniture.  Mr.  Abner 
Toppan  had  a  two  ston-  shop  contig- 
uous to  his  house  on  High  street.  Mr. 
Stephen  Toppan  on  Toppan's  lane  was 
a  distinguished  architect  and  builder. 
Mr.  Timothy  Palmer  was  celebrated, 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


233 


not  only  as  an  architect  and  carpenter, 
but  as  a  bridge  builder ;  several  of  the 
best  bridges  in  the  country  were  from 
his  designs.     Miss  Mary  Jenkins'  mil- 
linery establishment  was  in  her  house 
on    Water,    corner   of  Market   street. 
Green  and    Harris  streets   were    now 
lined    with     handsome     houses,    most 
of  which    had    been   built    since    my 
recollection.      The  first   house  on  the 
lower  side  of  Green  from  High   street 
was  built  by  Mr.  Potter,  who  carried 
on    a    thriving     business    at    cabinet 
making.      The    next     was   Mr.   Tom. 
Clarke's.     The  house  on  the  corner  of 
Green  and   Harris,   and  the  next   on 
the  upper  side  of  Harris  street,  Mr. 
Leonard  Smith  built  for  his  two  sons, 
John  and  William,  and  here  the}r  had 
recently  installed  their  brides.     John 
married  Mary,  daughter  of  Jonathan G. 
Parsons,  and    great-granddaughter   of 
Rev.  Jonathan  Parsons,  and  William, 
Miss   Mary,   second  daughter  of  Mr. 
Abraham    Jackson.       On   the    corner 
opposite  stood   the  residence  of  Mr. 
Allen  Dodge.     Col.   John  Greenleaf's 
came  next,  then  Mr.  Israel  Young's. 
That  of  Jonathan  Gage,  esq.,  was  on 
the  upper    corner  of  Pleasant  street, 
and  Robert  Laird's  house  and  brewery 
were  on  the  one  opposite.     Below  the 
brewery    came   the   Washington   Hall 
building.     A  two-story  wooden  edifice, 
the  hall  in  the  second  story,  dwellings 
and  a   school   room   below.      On   the 
corner  of  Water  street  stood  the  Gen- 
eral Titcomb  house,  one  of  the  old  and 
splendid  colonial  mansions  now  some- 
what lapsed  into  decay  and  let  as  a 
tenement  house.     The  first  house  on 
the  upper  side   from   Brown's   square 
was  built  by  Judge  Bradbury.     After 
he  left  the  town  it  was  purchased  by 
Capt.    Robert  Jenkins.      Mr.    Joseph 

30 


Cutler  built  the  house  above,  but  at 
this  time  it  was  owned  and  occupied  by 
Mr.  Abraham  Jackson.  This  gentle- 
man, a  descendant  from  an  English 
family  of  note,  was  for  some  years 
one  of  our  first  merchants.  Mr. 
Jackson  twice  married.  The  first 
wife  was  Mary  Mitchell,  of  Boston,  the 
mother  of  one  son,  Nathaniel,  and  two 
daughters,  Ann  and  Mary  ;  the  second, 
Hannah  Parsons,  granddaughter  of 
Rev.  Jonathan  Parsons,  also  had  one 
son  and  two  daughters,  Isaac  Rand, 
Ellen  and  Charlotte.  Miss  Ann  long 
ranked  among  the  brilliant  stars  of 
society,  possessing  a  vivid  imagination 
and  much  theatrical  talent.  One  who 
ever  listened  to  her  thrilling  tales, 
would  never  forget  her  descriptive 
ability,  or  her  tragic  powers. 

Mary,  Mrs.  William  Smith,  was  one 
of  the  most  attractive  of  women,  pos- 
sessing rare  attainments.  After  her 
husband's  death  she  established  a  flour- 
ishing seminar}*  at  Alexandria,  D.  C., 
where  she  drew  around  her  the  daugh- 
ters of  some  of  the  most  distinguished 
families  in  the  country  ;  her  house  be- 
came the  centre  for  the  best  society  in 
the  "District ;"  the  names  of  the  great- 
est statesmen  of  the  period,  and  many 
eminent  foreigners  were  enrolled  among 
her  personal  friends. 

Ellen  married  Admiral  George  Fred- 
erick Pearson,  U.  S.  Navy.  A  viva- 
cious and  cultivated  lady,  Mrs.  Pearson 
adorned  the  elevated  position  to  which 
she  was  called,  winning  the  esteem  of 
those  with  whom  she  became  connected. 
Isaac  Rand  Jackson  died  young.  At  the 
time  of  his  death  he  was  Charge  de 
Affairs  from  United  States  to  Denmark. 
He  married  Louisa  Carroll,  granddaugh- 
ter of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton. 

Previous  to  the  purchase  of  the  house 


234 


REMINISCENCES 


on  Green  street,  Mr.  Jackson's  resi- 
dence was  on  Water  street,  near  that 
of  Joseph  Marquand.  When  the  old- 
est son,  Nathaniel,  was  eighteen,  Mr. 
Marquand  being  a  representative  at 
the  General  Court  in  Boston,  young 
Jackson  passed  the  night  at  his  neigh- 
bor's. Before  retiring,  Mrs.  Mar- 
•  quand  would  order  a  large  armful  of 
wood  and  some  half  dozen  mould  can- 
dles, then  bid  the  young  man  good 
night,  with  the  remark:  "Now,  Nat, 
read  just  as  long  as  you  please." 

In  the  Revolutionary  war  one  of  Mr. 
Marquand's  prizes  contained  a  librar}T, 
the  property  of  the  Governor-General 
of  Canada,  which  that  dignitary  had 
forwarded  to  England  preparatory  to 
following  himself.  Naturally  a  devour- 
er  of  books,  this  large  collection  of  the 
best  authors  was  a  rare  treat,  and  night 
after  night  the  visitor,  forgetting  time, 
pored  over  the  pages,  which  often  were 
of  the  old  fashioned  brownish  paper, 
and  fine  type,  until  his  e3'esight  entire- 
ly failed.  This  weakness  of  the  eyes, 
changed  his  whole  career.  He  left  his 
father's  counting  room,  and,  as  super- 
cargo, entered  upon  a  life  on  the  "ocean 
wave."  For  years  foreign  lands  and 
tongues  were  more  familiar  than  his 
own.  He  became  an  apt  business  man, 
a  distinguished  linguist,  a  remarkably 
well  informed  and  most  accomplished 
gentleman.  His  knowledge  of  Spanish 
was  such  that  in  the  war  of  1812,  while 
sailing  under  Spanish  colors,  he  was 
kept  three  da}"s  on  board  of  a  British 
man-of-war  without  disclosing  his  na- 
tionally, though  every  artifice  was  used 
to  catch  him  off  his  guard.  On  the 
third  day  he  was  permitted  to  return  to 
his  ship,  which  proceeded  on  its  course. 
Some  time  after  having  been  captured, 
Mr.  Jackson,  when  on  parole  in  London, 


met  an  officer  of  the  vessel  in  which  he 
had  been  detained.  This  Lieutenant 
had  striven  by  every  device  to  startle 
young  Jackson  into  some  unguarded 
exclamation,  but  without  avail.  In- 
stantly recognizing  the  pseudo  Span- 
iard, he  gave  his  hand  with  a  cordial 
greeting,  exclaiming  "  I  knew  you  was 
a  Yankee  all  the  time,  who  ever  saw  a 
blue-eyed  Spaniard  ?  But  you  was  such 
a  deuce  of  a  clever  fellow  we  could  not 
detain  you." 

Mr.  Jackson  married,  in  Gottcnlmrg, 
Miss  Johanna  Tod,  a  lady  of  Swedish 
birth,  but  of  Scottish  parentage.  His 
eyes  having  regained  their  strength  he 
ceased  his  wanderings.  At  his  house 
in  Newburyport  he  often  entertained 
distinguished  foreigners.  Bishop  Chev- 
ereaux,  on  his  visits  to  the  place,  never 
left  without  calling  to  enjoj"  a  chat  in 
his  native  tongue  ;  later  several  young 
men  from  the  Spanish  West  India 
islands  availed  themselves  of  his  in- 
struction in  learning  English.  The 
tidings  that  Nat.  Jackson  had  contract- 
ed a  marriage  abroad  made  no  small 
stir  amongst  the  belles  of  Newbury- 
port, but  time  showed  the  wisdom  of 
his  choice.  Lovely,  devoted,  well  did 
Mrs.  Jackson  fulfil  the  vow  to  love 
and  cherish  for  better  for  worse,  for 
richer  for  poorer,  in  sickness  and  in 
health.  The  friend  and  companion,  as 
well  as  the  watchful  and  judicious 
mother  of  her  children,  a  kind  neigh- 
bor and  faithful  friend,  none  knew  her 
but  to  love  her.  To  the  choice  circle 
admitted  to  her  intimacy,  she  became 
dear  as  a  sister,  and  the  j-outhful  com- 
panions of  her  sons  and  daughters,  will 
ever  cherish  the  memory  of  one,  who, 
by  her  grace  and  urbanity,  her  sympa- 
thetic interest  in  their  joys  and  griefs, 
her  many  little  devices  for  their  enter- 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


235 


tainment  and  amusement,  made  so 
many  sunn}*  hours,  which  will  ever 
gleam  undimmed  amidst  the  recollec- 
tions of  the  past. 

Capt.  and  Mrs.  Jackson  reared  a  gifted 
family  of  four  sons  and  three  daughters. 
The  second  daughter  married  Capt. 
Joseph  C.  Hoyt,  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful ship  masters  of  Newburyport, 
who  died  on  the  5th  of  June,  1880. 
Andrew,  the  second  son,  died  in  boy- 
hood. Thomas  the  eldest,  and  Cor- 
nelius Soucha}',  the  youngest,  settled  in 
St. Louis,  where  both  died,  the  former  in 
middle  life,  the  latter  in  early  manhood. 
Highly  beloved  and  respected,  a  large 
circle,  both  at  the  east  and  w£st,  mourn 
their  early  death.  To  the  versatilit}T 
of  talent,  hereditary  in  the  family,  to 
Souchay  was  given  a  fine  artistic  genius, 
a  Hogarthian  power  to  portray,  with 
lifelike  vividness,  as  if- by  magic,  the 
persons  and  scenes  around  him,  slight 
pencil  sketches,  but  these  depict  a  pow- 
er that  needed  only  practice,  to  have 
placed  him  amongst  the  most  eminent 
of  world-renowned  artists.  Nathaniel, 
the  third  son,  won  a  brilliant  record  in 
the  war  of  the  rebellion.  Entering  the 
army  as  Colonel  of  the  first  Maine  regi- 
me irt,  three  months  men,  he  continued 
in  the  service,  after  the  return  of  the 
regiment.  Wounded  at  the  battle  of 
Games'  Mills,  he  was  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  Brigadier-General  for  his 
gallantry.  He  accompanied  Sherman 
through  his  Southern  campaign,  leaving 
the  army,  at  the  end  of  the  war,  with 
the  rank  of  Major-General  by  brevet. 


The   arms  of  Jackson   (Southgate) 
co.  Middlesex,  are : 


GULES,  A  GREYHOUND   COUKANT,   IN  A  FESSE   OK,  BE- 
TWEEN THREE  PHEONS  OR.      CREST — A  GREYHOUND 
PASSE  SA,  COLLARED  OH,  RESTING  THE  DEXTER 
FOOT  ON  A  PHEON    OF    THE  LAST. 

The  next  house,  on  the  corner  of 
Green  and  Union  (now  Washington) 
street,  was  built  by  Capt.  Babson,  from 
Gloucester,  who  came  to  Newburyport 
for  business  facilities.  It  was  pur- 
chased by  Col.  Fowle,  and  after  his 
decease  it  was  occupied  by  Joseph  Cut- 
ler, who  married  Col.  Fowle's  widow. 
Mr.  Cutler,  the  cashier  of  the  Merri- 
jnac  Bank,  died  suddenly,  early  in  the 
present  century.  The  lower  half  of 
the  house,  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Cutler's 
death,  was  occupied  by  Mrs.  Cutler's 
nephew,  Mr.  Joseph  Hooper.  This 
gentleman,  a  grandson  of  Robert,  com- 
monly styled  "King"  Hooper,  of  Mar- 
blehcad,  and  Benjamin  Hams,  the  dis- 
tinguished merchant  of  Newburyport, 
and  son  of  Joseph  Hooper,  the  royalist, 
was  born  after  his  father  went  to  Eng- 
land. In  several  ways  this  young  man 
was  despoiled  of  a  large  fortune.  His 
father's  property  was  confiscated  by 
government ;  his  furniture  had  been 
previously  burned  by  his  indignant 
townsmen;  through  treachery  and 


236 


REMIXISCEXCES 


fraud  he  lost  an  estate  in  Boston,  on 
Pemberton  hill,  which  by  right  belonged 
to  his  mother.  Pemberton  square  has 
been  laid  out  on  this  property.  Noth- 
ing daunted,  Mr.  Hooper  gathered  the 
remnants  of  his  patrimony  and  opened 
a  crockery  store  in  Blunt's  building, 
State  street.  Soon  after  he  was  united 
in  marriage  with  Miss  Man'  Whitmore, 
the  daughter  of  Col.  Joseph  Whitmore, 
a  veteran  of  the  Revolution,  whose 
residence  was  on  Fair  street.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hooper  reared  a  large  and  highly- 
talented  family  of  sons  and  daughters. 
Afterwards  Mr.  Hooper  occupied  the 
three-story  house  on  Washington,  near 
Boardman  street,  for  some  }-ears  the 
residence  of  Enoch  S.  Williams,  esq. 
In  the  rear  of  this  house,  Mr.  Williams 
established  the  first  comb  factory  in  the 
place,  and  in  this  house  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hooper's  fourth  daughter,  Luc}',  the 
able  writer,  was  born.  Though  she 
passed  from  earth  in  early  womanhood, 
her  name  had  become  enrolled  among 
the  sweet  singers  and  celebrated  au- 
thors of  America. 

The  Hooper  coat  of  arms  are : 

OR,  ON  A  FE88E  BETWEEN  TiyiEE  BOARS,  PASSE  AZURE, 

AS  MANT  ANNULETTES   OF   THE   FIRST.      CREST — 

BOAR'S    HEAD    ERASED   AT   NECK,    AZURE. 

BESSANTIE  ARMED  AND  CRINED. 

The  Harris  arms  are  : 

AZURE,  A  CHEVRON   ERMINE,  BETWEEN  THREE  HEDGE- 
HOGS, OR  ON  A  CHIEF,  THE   PRUSSIAN   EAGLE  WITH 
IMPERIAL   CROWNS.      CREST — A  HEDGEHOG  OR. 
SUPPORTERS    OF    ARMS,    ON   THE    DEXTER 
BIDE  EAGLE,  ON   SINISTER  A  STAG. 

Mrs.  Joseph  Cutler,  as  Miss  Alice 
Hooper,  had  been  a  celebrated  beauty. 
Her  portrait,  by  Copley,  has  excited 
universal  admiration.  The  lady  is 
painted  in  a  dress  of  blue  satin,  with 
antique  bodice,  full  skirt,  and  demi- 
open  sleeves,  finished  by  double  lace 
ruffles,  with  stomacher  to  match,  neck- 


lace and  ear-jewels  of  pearls,  hair 
brushed  from  the  forehead  and  turned 
over  a  roll  at  the  back.  One  hand 
hangs  gracefully  at  her  side,  the  other, 
outstretched,  catches  the  sparkling 
drops  from  an  old-fashioned  aqueduct. 
Beyond  is  a  wood,  lighted  b}'  a  shim- 
mer of  sunset  glow  ;  through  openings 
the  03*6  catches  glimpses  of  an  open 
country,  stretching  far  in  the  distance, 
with  a  gleaming  horizon,  barred  by 
ruddy  cloud  streaks.  Words  are  inad- 
equate to  describe  the  perfection  of 
this  painting.  The  shadow  of  the  lace 
upon  the  arm  is  a  wonderful  specimen 
of  art,  and  one  listens  to  hear  the  tin- 
kle of  thd  fountain,  or  stoops  to  catch 
the  pellucid  drops  from  the  maiden's 
fair  hand. 

Newburyport  at  that  time  was  rich  in 
Coplej-'s  paintings.  Mr.  Joseph  Hoop- 
er had  a  likeness  of  his  father,  and  Mrs. 
Nathaniel  Tracy,  whose  maiden  name 
was  Mary  Lee,  niece  of  Mrs.  Robert 
Hooper,  had  life-size  portraits  of  her 
father  and  mother.  The  p'air  are  painted 
in  the  dress  fashionable  at  the  time  of 
their  marriage.  Mrs.  Lee  is  depicted 
coming  from  a  garden  laden  with  roses. 
These  are  magnificent  pictures.  I  have 
been  told  that  the  artist  ranked  them 
among  his  very  best.  The  onlj-  picture 
by  this  distinguished  artist  at  present 
remaining  in  the  city  of  which  I  have 
any  knowledge,  is  a  pastel,  half  size 
portrait  of  the  third  daughter  of  Rob- 
ert, or  "King"  Hooper  of  Marble- 
head,  Rebecca,  wife  of  Lewis  Jenkins. 
Mr.  Jenkins  for  years  kept  a  dry  goods 
store  on  State,  corner  of  P^ssex  street, 
at  the  sign  of  the  golden  ball.  He  died 
in  1799.  The  portrait  is  that  of  a 
young  lad}'  in  the  dress  of  the  period, 
cut  low,  square  in  the  bosom,  and 
trimmed  with  rich  lace,  the  hair  turned 


OF   A 


237 


over  a  roll,  and  ornamented  by  flowers. 
The  face  and  figure  present  the  delicate 
beauty,  and  high  bred  grace  which 
characterized  the  ladies  of  the  Hooper 
family.  This  picture  has  descended  to 
a  grandniece,  Mrs.  Caroline  (Gallis- 
han)  Currier  of  Belleville.  Eobert,  or 
King,  Hooper  was  born  in  Marblehead. 
His  father  came  from  Wiltshire,  Eng- 
land, amongst  the  earliest  settlers  of 
this  country.  Robert  married  Ruth, 
daughter  of  Mr.  Joseph  Barnard 
Swett,  a  prominent  merchant.  They 
had  six  sons  and  four  daughters,  Mrs. 
Dalton,  Mrs.  Cutler,  Mrs.  Jenkins, 
the  fourth.  Hannah,  who  married  a 
White,  His  son  Stephen  owned  the 
"Hooper  farm,"  on  Pipestave  hill, 
afterwards  purchased  by  my  uncle 
John  Coker.  Mr.  Robert  Hooper  was 
one  of  the  principal  founders  of  Mar- 
blehead prosperit}-.  His  fellow-towns- 
men held  him  in  high  esteem,  and 
styled  him  ' '  King  Hooper, "  as  a  mark 
of  honor.  Mr.  Hooper  owned  a  fine 
country  seat"  in  Danvers,  which  is 
now  the  property  of  Mr.  Francis  Pea- 
body.  This  was  a  magnificent  estate, 
one  of  the  handsomest  of  the  grand  old 
colonial  mansions,  with  appointments 
and  grounds  to  match ;  the  place  was 
lamed  for  its  beautiful  trees.  The 
walls  of  the  best  rooms  were  hung  with 
tapestry,  and  the  furnishings  equalled 
it  in  splendor.  At  the  commencement 
of  the  Revolutionary  war  the  British 
for  a  time  quartered  troops  upon  the 
place,  and  so  well  was  it  stocked  with 
all  that  was  requisite  for  man  and 
beast,  that  the  soldiers  were  not 
obliged  to  go  elsewhere  for  supplies. 

Though  his  son  Joseph  chose  to  re- 
main loyal  to  King  George,  Robert 
Hooper  was  a  true  patriot.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  war  he  refused  the 


offer  to  be  made  King's  Commissioner, 
an  extremely  lucrative  situation. 

The  Rev.  John  Pierpont,  during  his 
residence  in  Newburyport,  occupied 
the  Cutler  house  for  a  time. 

On  the  upper  corner  of  Green  and 
Union  streets,  was  the  mansion  built  by, 
Judge  Parsons,  then  owned  and  oc- 
cupied by  Leonard  Smith.  Mrs.  Smith 
was  a  sister  of  General  Peabod}-.  Mr. 
Smith  at  that  time  ranked  amongst  our 
wealthiest  and  most  active  merchants. 
Above  came  the  long,  low  school-house 
I  have  mentioned.  The  corner  border- 
ing on  High  street  was  an  open  field. 
The  first  of  the  three-story  houses  on 
Harris  street,  from  Green,  was  built 
and  at  that  time  occupied  by  Obadiah 
Parsons,  the  second  by  Samuel  Dole, 
the  last,  next  to  State,  b}-  Capt.  Sam- 
uel Chase. 

The  lower  side  of  Tyng  street  and 
Toppan's  lane  formed  the  dividing  line 
of  Newburyport  from  Newbury.  The 
house  on  the  corner  of  High  and  Tyng 
streets  was  built  by  Thomas  Cokcr,  who 
also  built  the  house  on  the  upper  cor- 
ner, in  Newbury  ;  the  one  below,  down 
Tyng  street,  was  .built  by  Humphrey 
Webster.  The  second  on  High  was 
the  residence  of  Abner  Toppan  ;  the 
tlnve-stoiy  hou.se  on  the  corner  of 
High  and  Broad  streets  was  built  b}- 
Moses  Fraiser,  esq.  ;  at  this  time  it  was 
owned  and  occupied  by  Capt.  Jacob 
Greenleaf.  The  next,  on  Broad  street, 
was  built  by  Capt.  Moses  Goodrich; 
the  one  In-low  by  Thomas  (Joker.  this 
gentleman  was  the  father  of  my  uncle 
.John  Coker,  of  West  Newbury.  At 
this  time  the  house  was  owned  and 
occupied  by  a  Mr.  Brown.  The  hand- 
some residence  of  Tom.  Thomas  came 
next ;  below  that,  Moses  Coffin,  the 
lather  of  Mr.  Emery  and  Col.  Fred- 


REMINISCENCES 


erick  Coffin,  had  built  a  three-story 
house  ;  further  clown  was  the  residence 
of  Capt.  Fletcher. 

Mt.  Rural,  the  estate  of  Dr.  Josiah 
Smith,  bordered  the  upper  side  of  High 
street,  from  Toppan's  lane  nearly  to 
.Kent  street ;  fields  intervened  to  Com- 
mon pasture  lane,  now  Johnson  street. 
The  first  house  on  the  lower  side  below 
Broad  was  the  residence  of  Dr.  Bond  ; 
the  next  had  recently  been  erected  by 
William  Swain  ;  the  brick  house  on  the 
corner  of  Kent  street  was  built  and 
owned  by  Messrs.  Enoch  and  Ste- 
phen Toppan :  a  field  separated  Kent 
from  Buck  street.  Capt.  Buck's  hand- 
some brick  house  was  on  the  lower  cor- 
ner of  Buck  street ;  Mr.  Woodman's  be- 
low. Opposite,  on  the  lower  corner  of 
Pasture  lane,  was  the  new  three-stor}- 
house  of  Capt.  William  Hoyt ;  below 
was  the  residence  of  Capt.  Charles 
Goodrich  ;  next  came  the  elegant  man- 
sion of  John  Tracy ;  below  was  the 
Dexter  house,  then  Caldwell's  tavern. 
On  the  lower  corner  of  Olive  street 
stood  the  old  Frotiiingham  house,  the 
birth  place  of  the  wife  of  Lord  Tim- 
othy Dexter  ;  below,  came  the  Bassett 
house  and  the  residence  of  Mr.  Porter 
Russell.  A  house  owned  by  Mr.  Wil- 
liams was  on  the  upper  corner  of 
Boardmtui  street;  and  Capt.  Lunt's  on 
the  lower.  The  elegant  residence  of 
Dr.  James  Morse,  rector  of  St.  Paul's 
church,  came  next ;  below  were  the 
handsome  mansions  of  Capt.  Tristram 
Coffin,  Capt.  William  Fans,  Mr.  Ab- 
ner  Wood  and  Jonathan  Pettingell. 
The  old  Pettingell  house  was  below  on 
the  upper  corner  of  Winter  street. 
Nrxt  to  the  Dexter  house  garden,  on 
the  upper  side,  was  theTitcomb  house, 
and  a  two-story  house,  built,  I  believe, 
bj'  a  Mr.  Somerby  ;  next  was  the  rec- 


tor}- of  St.  Paul's  parish,  at  that  period 
occupied  by  the  widow  of  Bishop  Bass. 
Below  were  the  handsome  three-story 
houses  built  and  occupied  by  Capt. 
W}-att  and  Samuel  A.  Otis,  esq.  ;  next 
came  the  Carey  house,  the  former  resi- 
dence of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Carey  of 
the  first  church  ;  Mr.  Philip  Bagley's, 
Enoch  Toppan's.  and  that  of  Deacon 
Parker  followed,  with  the  Cooper  and 
Packard  houses.  Below  Star  alley  was 
the  Horton  house  and  a  row  of  old 
style  domiciles  ;  on  the  'corner  next  the 
mall  stood  the  mansion  of  Daniel  Farn- 
ham,  esq.  Jacqb  W.  Pierce  occupied 
the  house  on  the  lower  corner  of  Winter 
street ;  next  came  the  Marsh .  house 
and  the  old  Bailey  place ;  below,  St. 
Paul's  church  and  church-yard.  On 
the  opposite  corner  of  Mai'ket  street 
was  the  Morse  house,  famous  in  the 
annals  of  witchcraft,  a  picturesque  old 
fashioned  building  painted  red  ;  below 
came  the  Hodge  house,  and  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  Adams  on  the  upper  cor- 
ner of  Court  street.  Below  the  mall, 
on  the  upper  side,  were  the  residences 
of  William  Moulton  and  William  Green- 
leaf,  the  academy  and  the  handsome 
mansions  on  the  ridge,  Judge  Liver- 
more's,  Capt.  Abraham  Wheelwright's, 
Mr.  Stocker's,  Capt.  Eben  Wheel- 
wright's, Deacon  Solomon  Haskell's, 
Richard  Pike's.  Capt.  John  O'Brien's. 
Capt.  Philip  Coombs',  and  Elias  Hunt's. 
The  old  Prout  house  and  that  of  Capt. 
Benjamin  Pierce  stood  below.  Dr. 
Charles  Coffin's  was  the 'last  house  be- 
fore crossing  the  Newbury  line. 

On  the  lower  side  the  first  house 
from  Newbury  was  that  of  Samuel  Mil- 
liken  ;  then  came  Capt.  Micajah  Lunt's, 
the  old  Tom  Cross  house,  Capt.  Sam- 
uel Swett's,  Anthony  Davenport's,  and 
Capt.  Holland's,  on  the  lower  corner  of 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


239 


Federal  street.  Fields  stretched  from 
Federal  to  the  lower  side  of  State 
street;  the  old  Buntin  house  stood 
on  the  upper  corner.  The  four- 
story  brick  block  on  Brown's  square 
had  been  recently  built.  On  Market 
street  were  the  handsome  residences  of 
the  Hortons,  Stephen  Frothingham, 
Edmund  Bartlett,  and  Capt.  Isaac 
Stone.  The  Hoyt  mansion  was  on 
Boardman  street,  with  the  Johnson's, 
Gallishan's,  and  Capt.  Pulsifer's.  Mr. 
Butler  Abbott  had  a  handsome  estab- 
lishment on  Kent  street ;  Capt.  Sam- 
uel Baile3T's  residence  was  on  Spring 
street.  Captains  Eleazer  and  William 
P.  Johnson,  William  Coombs,  and 
William  Bartlett,  esq.,  occupied  hand- 
some houses  on  Federal  street.  Capt. 
Nicholas  Johnson  had  recently  pur- 
chased the  large  brick  house  on  the 
Boston  turnpike,  built  by  William 
Wooart,  esq ;  Mr.  Seth  Sweetser  built 
and  occupied  the  one  below.  Capt. 
John  Coombs  resided  on  Water,  corner 
of  Lime  street ;  Judge  Greeuleaf 's 
residence  was  on  the  corner  of  Union 
and  Titcomb  streets.  The  At  wood 
house  stood  on  Lime,  corner  of  At  wood 
street.  Besides  the  residences  I  have 
named,  there  were  many  others,  both 
spacious  and  elegant,  scattered  through- 
out the  town.  A  stable  was  attached 
to  the  better  class  of  houses,  and  many 
of  the  more  common  had  a  barn  for  the 
accommodation  of  a  cow  if  not  a 
horse.  Most  families  had  one  or  more 
cows,  which  in  summer  were  pastured 
in  the  upper  or  lower  common ;  when 
returning  home  at  nightfall  they  made 
quite  a  drove.  The  more  prominent 
citizens  usually  had  a  horse,  and  some 
kept  a  coach  and  span. 

There   were   three  Masonic   lodges : 
St.  John's,  St.  Peter's  and  St   Mark's. 


St.  Peter's  occupied  Washington  hall ; 
I  think  St.  John's  assembled  in  Madi- 
son hall  in  the  Pha'iiix  building,  and 
that  St.  Mark's  joined  with  St.  Peter's. 

Samuel  Bartlett,  a  younger  brother 
of  Col.  Bartlett,  occupied  the  lower  half 
of  his  house.  Mr.  S;umiel  Bartlett  was 
a  Mason.  When  I  was  a  child  the  breth- 
ren often  assembled  at  his  residence. 
The}-  occupied  the  front  chamber,  where 
they  would  keep  up  a  most  tremendous 
racket  until  a  late  hour. 

Mrs.  Bartlett  was  a  delicate  woman 
with  small  children,  and  my  aunt  was 
subject  to  nervous  headaches.  I  won- 
dered that  they  bore  the  infliction  with 
any  patience.  For  myself  I  obtained  a 
great  dislike  to  the  order,  and  firmly 
believed  in  the  red  hot  gridiron  and 
every  other  diabolical  invention. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

At  this  time  the  old  English  style 
had  not  wholly  passed  from  society ; 
there  was  more  of  precedent  and  caste 
than  now. 

The  professional  men  and  their  fam- 
ilies held  the  first  rank,  then  came  the 
merchants,  town  and  national  officers, 
shipmasters,  the  more  prominent  and 
wealthy  mechanics,  etc.  Politics  sepa- 
rated the  elite  ;  though  sometimes  meet- 
ing on  common  ground,  usually  there 
was  but  slight  social  fraternization. 
There  were  Federal  and  Jacobin  clubs, 
military  companies,  balls  and  parties. 
One  lady  would  not  call  upon  another 
of  the  opposite  party  ;  gentlemen  were 
scarcely  civil  to  each  other ;  much  ran- 
cor, bitterness  and  scorn  were  shown 
upon  both  sides.  The  artillery  company 


240 


KEMENTSCEXCES 


were  Jacobins,  the  "  Silver  Greys" 
Federalists.  The  leading  Jacobins  were 
Capt.  Benjamin  Pierce,  the  O'Briaus, 
Mr.  Marquand,  Capt.  Russell,  Dr. 
Smith,  of  Mt.  Rural,  the  Williams 
family,  Capt.  Richards,  and  others. 

Most  of  my  town  relatives  were 
Federalists.  Through  my  Johnson, 
Little  and  Smith  ancestry,  I  was  con- 
nected with  the  Johnsons,  Crosses, 
Coombs',  Wheelwrights,  Noyes',  Bart- 
lotts.  and  other  of  older  families.  At 
their  residences,  and  those  of  my  uncles 
Peabod\'  and  Bartlet,  I  met. the  most 
brilliant  stars  in  the  Federalist  galaxy. 
My  great-uncle  Daniel  Johnson  was 
the  black  sheep  amongst  his  Federalist 
brethren.  At  Gov.  Gerry's  election 
the  opposition  got  up  all  sorts  of  slurs  : 
one  was  a  caricature  called  a  "  Gerry- 
mander." Uncle  Daniel  took  pains  to 
procure  a  copy  which  he  sent  to  me. 
The  Democratic  party  also  had  the 
ascendency  in  the  legislature.  In  1812 
the  old  senatorial  districts  were  re- 
arranged, and  the  Federalists,  in  de- 
rision, drew  this  figure,  as  representing 
Essex  county : 


J\  Gerrymander, 


The  picture  uncle  Johnson  sent  to  me 
was  in  the  Newburyport  Herald,  and 
covered  two-thirds  of  one  page  of  that 
sheet. 

The  Embargo  Act  wholly  disarranged 
the  business  of  Newburyport ;  for  a 
time  it  brought  much  suffering.  It  was 
but  natural  that  opposition  to  the  pol- 
icy of  the  administration  should  be 
nearly  universal.  On  the  first  anniver- 
sary of  the  passage  of  the  act,  the  flags 
were  hung  at  half  mast,  the  bells  were 
tolled,  and  minute  guns  were  fired : 
while  a  procession  of  sailors  bearing 
crape  on  their  arms  marched  through 
the  streets,  headed  by  a  dismantled 
vessel  drawn  by  horses  on  a  cart.  This 
craft  bore  a  flag  inscribed  :  "  Death  to 
Commerce."  On  the  quarter-deck 
stood  a  sailor  with  a  glass  in  his  hand, 
and  a  painted  motto  bore  the  words  : 
"Which  way  shall  I  steer?"  Occa- 
sionally the  sailor  threw  the  lead.  Op- 
posite the  custom  house  he  delivered  an 
address  appropriate  for  the  day  and 
the  Federalist  party. 

In  1809  the  Embargo  gave  place  to 
the  Xon-Intercourse  Act.  Negotia- 
tions with  Great  Britain  followed, 
which  resulted  in  the  release  of  our 
citizens  impressed  into  her  service. 
In  1810  France  repealed  her  conti- 
nental decrees.  Business  revived,  and 
shipbuilding  again  became  active. 

The  brilliant  coterie  of  which  Judge 
Parsons,  and  his  law  students,  Robert 
Treat  Paine,  Rufus  King.  John  Quincy 
Adams  and  other  talented  3"oung  men, 
the  Jacksons,  Daltons,  Trace's,  Green- 
leafs,  Hoopers,  and  other  distinguished 
families,  the  Misses  Fraiser,  Atkins, 
Searle,  Bradbury,  Farnham,  Thomas, 
Jenkins,  and  other  belles  and  beauties, 
who  graced  the  assemblies  at  the  old 
Tabernacle  in  Temple  street,  in  my 


OF    A  NONAGENARIAN. 


241 


mothers  girl-hood,  had  been  succeeded 
by  another  generation.  Of  the  clerg}r- 
men's  families,  the  three  daughters  of 
Parson  Giles  had  just  entered  society. 
Dr.  Andrew's  oldest  son  was  in  col- 
lege and  Margaret  was  in  her  teens. 
Dr.  Spring's  oldest  sons  were  also 
collegians.  Dr.  Dana's  and  Parson 
Milton's  children  were  small.  Dr. 
Morss  had  recently  married  Miss 
Martha  Boardman.  Dr.  Micajah  Saw- 
yer was  the  senior  physician,  his  two 
daughters,  Mrs.  Lee  and  Mrs.  Schuy- 
ler,  had  been  married  several  years. 
I  vividly  recall  the  grandeur  of  their 
nuptials.  Dr.  Francis  Vergnies,  a 
Frenchman,  a  physician  of  much  skill, 
and  extensive  practice,  lived  and  died 
a  bachelor.  His  home  for  many  years 
was  on  the  lower  corner  of  Union, 
(now  Washington,)  and  Market  streets. 
Dr.  Nathan  Noyes  had  married  Miss 
Mary  Niles,  of  Hanover,  N.  H.,  and 
established  himself  in  Newburyport, 
where  he  was  fast  becoming  a  celebrity. 
Dr.  Bricket,  had  moved  into  town  from 
the  lower  parish  in  Newbury,  where  he 
still  had  a  large  practice.  Dr.  Pres- 
cott,  who  had  recently  established  him- 
self in  the  place,  with  his  wife  and 
lovely  daughters,  was  fast  acquiring  a 
wide  spread  popularity.  Dr.  Johnson, 
a  young  man  and  unmarried,  had  just 
received  his  diploma. 

Theophilus  Bradbury,  judge  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts,  died 
in  1803.  Judge  Parsons,  when  a  stu- 
dent, read  law  in  the  office  of  Theoph- 
ilus Bradbury,  who  was  a  member  of 
Congress  from  this  district  during 
Washington's  administration. 

Judge  Livermore  was  then  the  oldest 
and  the  most  distinguished  of  the  legal 
fraternity  of  the  town ;  he  was  also 
our  representative  to  Congress.  His 

31 


daughter,  Miss  Harriet  Livermore, 
from  childhood  had  been  noted  for 
eccentricity  ;  her  singular  conduct  and 
conversation  was  a  frequent  topic  for 
remark. 

William  B .  Bannister  esq. ,  had  recent- 
ly formed  a  partnership  with  Edward 
Little. 

Tom  Carey,  the  son  of  the  late  Eev. 
Thomas  Carey,  a  talented,  highly  edu- 
cated, polished  and  entertaining  young 
man,  would  probably  have  acquired  a 
high  reputation,  had  he  not,  like  too 
many  others  of  that  generation,  suc- 
cumbed to  the  demon  of  dissipation. 
Possessed  of  wealth,  a  handsome  per- 
son, pleasing  address  and  rare  accom- 
plishments and  culture,  with  a  power 
of  adapting  himself  to  any  society, 
great  wit,  humor  and  generosity,  not- 
withstanding his  convivial  proclivities, 
as  yet  he  held  posts  of  trust  and  honor, 
gentlemen  hailed  him  as  the  prince  of 
good  fellows,  and  ladies,  with  whom  he 
was  a  general  favorite,  smiled  their 
sweetest  at  his  approach. 

One  evening,  Tom  Carey  and  a  num- 
ber of  other  young  men  had  been  hold- 
ing an  orgie,  in  a  low  tavern  near  Mar- 
ket square.  About  midnight  they  sal- 
lied forth,  "half  seas  over."  The 
northern  sky  was  brilliant  with  an  au- 
rora, but  in  their  muddled  condition 
Tom's  companions  took  it  for  a  fire  at 
the  north  end,  and  commenced  to  give 
an  alarm.  "  Shtop,  shtop,  "  cried  Tom, 
"don't  scream,  its  only  the  Rora  Bo- 
lis,  keep  to  the  west,  keep  to  the 
west !"  The  next  afternoon,  sobered 
and  shaved,  curled,  powdered  and 
cued,  in  fine  broadcloth,  Wellington 
boots,  bell  crowned  beaver,  kid  gloves 
and  gold  headed  cane,  Mr  Care}-  ac- 
companied by  Dr.  Spring,  as  school 
committee,  was  making  the  round  of 


242 


REMTSTSCEXCES 


the  schools.  As  they  passed  down 
State  street,  old  Morrill,  a  rough,  saucy 
blackguard,  stood  at  the  door  of  his 
boarding  house,  and  esp}ring  the  pair, 
he  shouted,  "  Keep  to  the  west  Mr. 
Care}%  keep  to  the  west. "  Tom  had 
the  grace  to  color,  while  his  compan- 
ion looked  the  curiosit}*  he  was  too 
polite  to  form  into  a  question.  Mr. 
Carey  passed  the  matter  by  some  re- 
mark, and  for  a  time  it  was  noticed 
he  was  remarkably  circumspect  in  his 
conduct,  but  the  story  became  current, 
and  "  keep  to  the  west,  "  remained  a 
jest  for  a  long  time. 

William  H.  Prince,  Ebenezer  Mose- 
ley,  Sam  L.  Knapp.  John  Scott  and 
Moody  Noyes,  were  all  young  lawyers 
boarding  at  Coburn's  Hotel  in  the  Tra- 
cy House.  Tom  Carey  also  boarded 
with  Coburn.  This  bevy  of  }'oung 
attorneys  were  a  special  attraction  to 
the  belles  of  the  period.  The  previ- 
ous  Fourth  of  Juby  Squire  Mosele}~  de- 
livered an  oration  in  the  Pleasant 
street  meeting-house  ;  there  was  a  pro- 
cession, fine  music,  and  a  grand  gala 
through  the  day  and  evening.  Young 
Moseley  acquited  himself  with  great 
eclat  and  some  of  the  enthusiastic 
misses  plaited  a  crown  of  laurels  as  a 
gift  for  the  orator,  but  not  having  the 
courage  to  present  it,  he  never  knew 
the  proposed  honor,  though  ever  after 
he  was  known  amongst  them  as  the 
"  laurel  crowned  Demosthenes.  " 

Sam  L.  Knapp  was  a  splendid  man, 
the  prince  of  beaux,  winning  his  way  as 
by  enchantment,  particularly  distin- 
guished as  a  belles-lettres  scholar,  he 
wielded  the  pen  of  a  read}'  writer,  his 
imagination  was  vivid,  his  power  of 
description  graphic,  his  conversation 
both  brilliant  and  instructive. 

Moody  Noyes,   a  promising    young 


man,  modest  and  retiring  in  society, 
died  young.  Jacob  Gerrish  was 
another  A'oung  lawyer,  and  Stephen 
Hooper,  a  son  of  Mr.  Stephen  Hoop- 
er of  the  Pipe-stave  hill  farm. 

Messrs.  Clark,  Chandler  and  Ad- 
ams, Archibald  McPhail,  AsaW.  Wildes, 
Benjamin  A.  Gould,  George  Tit- 
comb  and  Joseph  Gleason,  the  editor 
and  publisher  of  the  "Statesman," 
the  Democratic  newspaper,  were  favor- 
ites in  society.  Arthur  Gilman,  John 
Porter,  David  Peabody,  George  Pea- 
body,  Francis  B.  Somerby,  Edward 
Toppan  jr.,  Joseph  Huse,  George 
Cross,  Oliver  and  Prescott  Spalding, 
Abner,  William,  James,  John  and 
Alexander  Caldwell,  and  their  cousin 
William  Caldwell,  Moses  Osgood, 
John  Chickering,  Jonathan  Coolidge, 
Henry  Frothingham,  John  R.  Hudson, 
Edward  S.  and  Isaac  Rand,  Isaac 
Hand  Jackson,  Joseph  Marquand, 
Joshua  Aubin,  Sewell  Toppan,  Joseph 
Abraham,  Robert  and  William  Wil- 
liams, Nathaniel,  John,  William, 
Thomas,  Leonard  and  David  Smith, 
Samuel  T.  DeFord,  Simeon  Wade, 
Eben  and  Charles  Hale,  Nathaniel 
Greeley,  the  Johnsons,  Greenleafs, 
Stones,  Noyes,  Balches,  of  Newbury- 
port,  Joseph  Balch  of  Belleville,  Jo- 
seph T.  Pike,  David,  Abner  and  Jeny, 
sons  of  Abuer  Wood,  William  and 
George,  sons  of  the  widow  Wood, 
were  prominent  among  the  rising 
young  men.  George  Wood  after- 
wards became  a  well  known  author. 
Besides  these  ja  number  of  our  young 
men  were  engaged  in  business  in  for- 
eign ports,  or  as  masters  or  supercar- 
goes of  ships ;  amongst  these  were 
Capt.  Nathaniel  Jackson,  Captains 
John  and  Benjamin  Harrod,  Capt. 
Green  Sanborn,  and  Capt.  Richards. 


I 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


Capt.  Nathaniel  Jackson  had  just 
brought  home  his  lovely  wife.  This 
lad}',  her  infant  son,  and  his  Swedish 
nurse,  clad  in  the  costume  of  her 
country,  attracted  much  attention. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  Dean  and  Jacob 
W.  Pierce  and  wife  were  young,  married 
people.  Nicholas  Johnson  had  re- 
cently led  to  the  alter  Miss  Sarah,  old- 
est daughter  of  Mr.  Anthony  Daven- 
port. John  and  William  Smith  had 
just  established  their  brides  in  their 
elegant  homes.  These  ladies  with 
Mrs.  Tom  Thomas,  Mrs.  Thomas 
Hooper,  who  was  a  daughter  of  Judge 
Bradbury,  Miss  Ann  Jackson,  Mr. 
Leonard  Smith's  niece,  Hitty  Smith, 
and  his  daughter  Sarah,  were  the 
acknowledged  queens  of  society. 

The  three  daughters  of  Dr.  Smith 
of  Mount  Rural,  Miss  Mary,  Hannah, 
Judith,  and  Caroline  Little,  and  the  six 
daughters  of  Mr.  John  Balch  of  Belle- 
ville, Mr.  Joseph  Williams'  only  daugh- 
ter Caroline,  Mr.  John  Tracy's  daugh- 
ters Margaret,  Mary,  Elizabeth  and 
Catharine,  the  daughters  of  the  late 
Nathaniel  Tracy,  Louisa  and  Helen, 
Miss  Sukey  Fowle,  and  Miss  Sally 
Cutler,  Mr.  Daniel  Balch's  daughters, 
the  Misses  Searle,  Harrod,  Frothing- 
ham,  Johnson,  White,  Wheelwright, 
Marquand,  Davenport,  Stocker,  Faris, 
Greenleaf,  Wood  and  Pierce,  Miss  Sa- 
rah Hale,  Maj.  David!  Coffin's  only 
daughter  Mary,  Mr.  Moses  Brown's 
only  daughter  Mary,  Miss  Margaret 
Andrews,  the  Misses  Giles,  Miss  Mary 
Ann  Oxnard,  Hannah  Bartlett,  Betsey 
Lawrence,  Martha,  Sally  and  Katie 
Caldwell,  and  their  cousin  Sally  Cald- 
well,  Sophronia  Peabody  and  her  cous- 
in Sophia,  the  youngest  daughter  of 
Leonard  Smith  were  the  most  promi- 
nent belles.  Miss  Lydia  Osgood,  the 


youngest  daughter  of  Deacon  Osgood 
of  the  upper  parish  Newbury,  was  a 
general  favorite  in  this  circle  ;  no  fes- 
tivity was  complete  without  her. 

Miss  Ann  Thaxter,  a  step  daughter 
of  Joshua  Carter,  had  been  married  a 
short  time  previous  to  Nathaniel  Par- 
sons of  Boston.  In  his  visits  to  his  fi- 
ancee Mr.  Parsons  created  a  sensation 
in  the  neighborhood,  as  he  dashed  to 
the  door,  in  his  coach  and  four,  with  a 
darkey  in  livery  holding  the  ribbons, 
and  the  splendor  of  the  wedding  was 
long  remembered.  After  the  bride  had 
become  settled  in  her  city  home,  her 
two  intimate  friends,  Mary  Brown  and 
Sophronia  Peabody,  paid  her  a  visit. 
The  house,  which  was  near  Bowdoin 
square,  was  a  large  brick  structure  ;  a 
gateway  led  through  a  paved  court  to  a 
spacious  stable.  Over  this  gateway 
from  an  arched  iron  railing  was  suspen- 
ed  a  square  glass  lantern.  This  was  cus- 
tomary at  that  period,  at  the  better 
class  mansions.  The  interior  of  the 
house  was  magnificent  both  in  propor- 
tion and  finish.  Mirrors  were  inserted 
in  the  drawing  room  doors  to  enhance 
the  effect.  The  furniture  had  been  im- 
ported expressly  for  the  house,  it  was 
both  rich  and  stylish  ;  glittering  chan- 
deliers, and  other  ornaments  embel- 
lished the  rooms  ;  the  silken  canopy  to 
the  bed  in  the  guest  chamber,  was 
gathered  around  an  oval  mirror  set  in 
the  centre  of  the  arched  top.  The 
whole  mansion  was  resplendent  with 
French  luxury  and  novel  elegance. 

The  first  class  .dwellings  of  New- 
buryport,  were  mostly  square  struct- 
ures, three  stories  in  height,  or  of  two 
stories  with  dormer  windows  in  the 
roof ;  some  were  gambrel  roofed  houses. 
There  were  generally  four  rooms  on 
the  lower  floor,  a  spacious  hall  from 


244 


EEMIXISOEXCES 


which  a  flight  of  broad,  low  stairs,  with 
elaborate^  carved  balusters  led  to  the 
story  above.  Usually  an  L  was  at- 
tached for  an  outer  kitchen,  and  a 
court  yard,  frequently  flagged,  led  to  a 
stable  beyond.  Gardens  were  attached 
to  most  residences,  those  on  the  upper 
side  of  High  street  usually  had  exten- 
sive grounds.  The  heavj-  claw-footed 
furniture  of  a  previous  date  had  been 
followed  by  lighter,  in  the  French 
style.  Stiff  looking,  slender  legged 
chairs  and  sofas  were  primly  ranged 
round  the  room,  with  card  table  to 
match  in  the  piers ;  these  sometimes 
had  marble  tops.  Above  them  hung 
large  Dutch  mirrors.  Often  the  walls 
were  adorned  with  one  or  more  family 
portraits ;  these  though  not  Coply's 
were  usually  good  pictures.  The 
French  Revolution  had  sent  many  ref- 
ugees to  our  shores  who  had  been  com- 
pelled to  turn  their  talents  and  accom- 
plishments to  account.  Mr.  Moses 
Cole  painted  fine  portraits,  and  he  was 
well  patronized  by  his  townsmen.  An 
engraving  of  the  Washington  family 
was  a  favorite  picture  that  could  have 
been  seen  in  mam'  houses.  Carpets 
had  come  much  more  generally  into 
use.  The  Turkey  carpets  bordered 
and  fringed  had  given  place  to  those 
from  English  looms,  though  Turkej* 
rugs  were  still  highly  esteemed.  Very 
pretty  carpets  in  striped  patterns  of 
home  construction  had  become  fashion- 
able, and  those  from  rags  for  common 
use  were  often  seen. 

The  dining  or  sitting  room  almost 
invariably  held  a  large  mahogony  side- 
board. Beneath  generall}-  stood  an  or- 
namental liquor  case,  and  upon  the  top 
were  some  half  dozen  cut-glass  decan- 
ters filled  with  wine,  brandy  and  other 
liquors  ;  these  were  flanked  by  trays  of 


wine  glasses  and  tumblers.  The  old 
fashioned  silver  tankard  had  become 
obsolete,  but  a  display  of  silver  tumb- 
lers was  considered  desirable.  The 
chambers  were  still  furnished  with 
hangings  to  the  bedsteads,  but  bureaus 
had  supplanted,  the  case  of  drawers. 
In  mamT  mansions  stairs  led  from  the 
china  closet  to  a  private  cellar,  which 
usually  was  well  stocked  with  choice 
wines  and  liquors.  Our  foreign  trade 
gave  facility  for  obtaining  the  best 
brands  ;  few  families  were  without  a 
larger  or  smaller  suppl}".  Cider  was 
put  in  the  common  cellar  and  used  as 
freely  as  water.  On  one  occasion  Mr. 
Nathaniel  Tracy  caught  his  negro  serv- 
ing man  carousing  with  a  brother  darkey 
in  the  wine  cellar,  drinking  "to  better 
times"  from  a  silver  goblet  brimming 
with  choice  old  Bordeaux.  Chaises 
were  now  in  general  use  ;  there  were  a 
few  barouches ;  four-wheeled  wagons 
were  superseding  the  two-wheeled 
spring  cart.  Coaches  drawn  by  two 
horses,  sometimes  four,  were  the  fash- 
ionable equipage ;  several  were  kept 
by  families  in  the  town. 

The  attire  fashionable  for  a  gentle- 
man at  that  period  was  similar  to  that 
I  have  described  as  worn  by  Tom  Ca- 
rey. Small  clothes  were  still  stylish 
for  evening  parties  and  balls.  The 
French  mode  prevailed  in  the  costume 
of  the  ladies.  Short,  scant  ruffled 
skirts,  short  waists ;  for  }"oung  ladies 
short  sleeves,  and  low  necks,  especially 
so  in  the  bosom  ;  an  under  handker- 
chief fitted  so  neatly  it  was  scarcely 
discernable,  and  tuckers  finished  the 
neck.  Long  gloves,  sashes,  and  a 
great  variety  of  ornaments  were  worn 
in  full  dress.  The  hair  was  worn  high, 
often  the  back  hair  having  been  divid- 
ed, half  fell  in  curls  on  the  neck  while 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


24:5 


the  remainder  was  wound  round  the 
comb ;  at  other  times  it  was  wholly 
braided  and  twisted  into  a  crown  upon 
the  head,  the  front  hair  clustered  in 
short  curls  over  the  forehead  or  on  the 
temples.  The  elder  ladies  wore  vari- 
ously fashioned  caps  and  turbans.  Ear 
jewels  were  universal!}7  worn.  The 
strings  of  gold  beads  so  general  in  my 
mother's  girlhood  were  then  deemed 
old-fashioned ;  necklaces  and  chains 
had  taken  their  place  ;  often  a  minia- 
ture painted  on  ivory  set  in  gold  was 
worn  on  the  chain.  Both  my  Aunt 
Peabody  and  Bartlett  had  good  like- 
nesses of  their  husbands,  which  were 
fine  paintings.  Brooches,  bracelets  and 
rings  were  of  various  patterns,  some 
exceedingly  elegant  in  design.  Rich 
thread  laces  were  much  in  demand,  and 
linen  cambric.  The  gentlemen's  shirt 
bosoms  were  ruffled  with  this  fabric. 
Silk  bonnets  were  worn,  but  straw  was 
the  style.  A  black  satin  cloak  with 
cape  and  sleeves  was  the  usual  out- 
doors garment  for  older  ladies,  for  the 
younger,  silk  pelisses  in  fancy  colors 
were  fashionable  ;  both  reached  below 
the  knee  and  were  finished  by  a  trim- 
ming of  black  lace.  Long  cloth  wrap- 
pers were  made  for  common  wear. 
White  dresses  were  worn  entirely  by 
3'oung  ladies  when  in  full  dress,  and 
usually  on  Sunda}'s.  However  cold 
the  weather  or  wet  the  walking  a  white 
cambric,  with  a  green,  blue,  or  lilac 
silk  pelisse,  a  straw  bonnet  trimmed  to 
match,  white  silk  stockings  and  kid 
slippers  of  the  same  hue  of  the  pelisse, 
or  cork  soled  morocco  walking  shoes, 
with  a  sable  muff  and  tippet,  was  the 
street  dress  of  a  young  lady  of  ton. 
Muslins  and  gauzes  over  under  dresses 
of  satin,  with  rich  trimmings  of  lace, 
ribbon,  spangles,  bugles  etc.,  were  the 


mode  for  evening  attire.  Silks  were 
seldom  worn  excepting  by  older  ladies, 
and  woolen  fabrics  were  only  admissi- 
ble for  home  wear.  A  deal  of  fun  was 
made  of  Mr.  John  Balch's  daughters, 
because  their  mother  very  sensibly  com- 
pelled them  to  wear  crimson  bomba- 
zette  dresses  to  a  party  one  snapping 
winter  night,  with  the  thermometer  be- 
low zero.  On  pleasant  days  fashiona- 
ble ladies  devoted  the  morning  to  call- 
ing or  receiving  visitors.  Cake  and 
wine  were  invariably  handed  to  the 
guest. 

One  o'clock  was  the  dinner  hour  for 
all  classes.  At  the  first  stroke  of  the 
bells  of  the  Pleasant  and  Federal  street 
churches  the  streets  were  filled  with  a 
hungry  throng  rushing  homeward. 
There  was  little  ceremonious  visiting  of 
an  afternoon,  unless  invitations  had 
been  issued  for  a  tea  party.  At  these 
the  ladies  assembled  from  four  to  five 
o'clock,  Tea  was  served  at  six. 

In  most  families  there  was  a  boy  or 
girl  bound  to  service  until  the  age  of 
eighteen.  When  the  hour  arrived  this 
young  servant  passed  round  napkins 
upon  a  salver ;  next  a  man  or  maid 
servant  bore  round  the  tray  of  cups, 
the  younger  waiter  following  with  the 
cream  and  sugar.  Bread  and  butter 
and  cake  succeeded,  these  were  passed 
round  two  or  three  times,  and  the 
younger  servant  stood,  salver  in  hand, 
ready  to  take  the  cups  to  be  replen- 
ished. If  the  gentlemen  came  to  tea, 
and  this  was  the  only  refreshment, 
sliced  ham  or  tongue  were  usually  add- 
ed, but  often  there  would  be  a  hot  meat 
supper  at  nine  or  ten  o'clock.  This 
was  a  customary  meal  in  many  fami- 
lies. In  Mr.  Leonard  Smith's  family 
it  was  as  regular  as  either  of  those  dur- 
ing the  day.  As  both  my  aunts  con- 


246 


REMINISCENCES 


sidered  the  practice  unhealthy  it  was 
never  introduced  into  their  households. 
Dinner  parties  were  common,  when  the 
table  would  be  loaded  with  luxuries. 
After  the  dessert  the  ladies  retired  to 
the  parlor  for  an  hour's  gossip,  while 
the  gentlemen  sipped  wine,  smoked 
long  Dutch  pipes  and  discussed  the  af- 
fairs of  the  nation  The  ladies  having 
been  rejoined  in  the  drawing  room  cof- 
fee was  passed.  These  parties  were 
often  the  scene  of  much  conviviality, 
but  "being  a  little  after  dinnerish" 
it  was  considered  a  slight  matter,  and 
any  escapade  in  consequence  was 
wholly  overlooked.  In  1780  the  Mar- 
quis de  Chastellux,  the  Vicornte  do  Vau- 
dreuil,  M.  de  Tale}-rand  and  M.  de 
Montesquieu  visited  Newburyport ; 
they  came  from  Portsmouth  over  the 
Merrimac  Ferry  and  stopped  at  the 
"Wolfe  Tavern."  These  foreigners 
had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Mr.  John 
Tracy,  but  before  it  was  delivered  Mr. 
Tracy  and  Col.  Wigglesworth  called  to 
invite  them  to  pass  the  evening  with 
Mr.  Tracy.  I  copy  the  account  of  this 
visit  from  a  description  written  by  the 
Marquis  de  Chastellux,  as  it  is  a  per- 
fect picture  of  the  tone  of  society  at 
that  time  and  for  a  long  period  after. 
M.  de  Chastellux  writes,  "This  Colonel 
remained  with  me  till  Mr.  Trac}"  fin- 
ished his  business,  when  he  came  with 
two  handsome  carriages,  well  equipped, 
and  conducted  me  and  my  aide-de- 
Camps  to  his  country  house."  (This 
was  the  mansion  on  High  street  above 
the  former  Dexter  house.)  "This  is 
in  a  very  beautiful  situation,  but  of  this 
I  could  myself  form  no  judgment,  as  it 
was  already  night.  I  went,  however, 
by  moonlight  to  see  the  garden,  which 
is  composed  of  different  terraces.  There 
is  likewise  a  hothouse  and  a  number  of 


j-oung  trees.  The  house  is  handsome 
and  well  finished,  and  everything 
breathes  that  air  of  magnificence  ac- 
companied with  simplicity,  which  is 
only  to  be  found  among  merchants. 
The  evening  passed  rapidly  by  the  aid 
of  agreeable  conversation  and  a  few 
glasses  of  punch.  The  ladies  we  found 
assembled  were  Mrs.  Tracy,  her  two 
sisters,  and  their  cousin  Miss  Lee. 
Mrs.  Tracy  has  an  agreeable  and  sen- 
sible countenance,  and  her  manners 
correspond  with  her  appearance.  At 
ten  o'clock  an  excellent  supper  was 
served.  We  drank  good  wine,  Miss 
Lee  sung,  and  prevailed  upon  Messrs. 
de  Vaudreuil  and  Talej'rand  to  sing 
also.  Towards  midnight  the  ladies 
withdrew,  but  we  continued  drinking 
Madeira  and  Xeiy.  Mr.  Tracy,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  the  county, 
offered  us  pipes,  which  were  accepted 
by  M.  de  Taleyrand  and  M.  de  Mon- 
tesquieu, the  consequence  of  which  was 
that  they  became  intoxicated  and  were 
led  home,  where  they  were  happy  to  get 
to  bed.  As  to  m}Tself,  I  remained  per- 
fectly cool,  and  continued  to  converse 
on  trade  and  politics  with  Mr.  Tracy." 

In  addition  to  the  entertainments  I 
have  described  were  evening  parties 
and  balls.  These  parties  were  often 
large,  and  music  was  usually  provided 
for  dancing,  with  a  choice  and  elegant 
treat.  Sillabub  at  an  earlier  day  had 
been  a  fashionable  evening  beverage. 
There  were  sillabub  tables,  small, 
square,  four-legged  ones,  with  a  narrow 
ledge  running  round  the  sides,  on 
which  were  placed  the  glass  sillabub 
bowl  andFadle,  the  mixture,  which  con- 
sisted of  milk,  wine  or  cider,  sugar  and 
spice,  being  dipped  into  tall,  slender 
stemmed  glasses.  The  introduction  of 
tea  brought  sillabub  into  disuse.  Ices 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


247 


had  not  then  become  general.  Cream 
whipped  to  a  froth,  sweetened  and 
flavored,  was  much  favored.  Served 
in  glasses  it  looked  very  pretty,  and 
''whips"  were  the  one  genteel  thing  for 
an  evening  soiree.  Jellies,  various 
cakes,  fruit,  wines  and  hot  punch  were 
the  usual  additional  refreshments. 

The  old  Tabernacle  upon  whose 
floor  the  stately  minuet  of  a  preceding 
generation  had  been  danced  had  given 
place  to  the  new  Washington  Hall  on 
Green  street,  which  had  a  spring  floor, 
considered  especially  excellent  for  danc- 
ing. It  was  reached  by  two  flights  of 
stairs  leading  from  the  lower  entry  to 
the  one  above  ;  two  ante  rooms  opened 
into  this,  from  which  doors  led  to  the 
hall,  which  was  lofty  and  spacious. 
Large  windows  draped  with  red  faced 
on  either  side  ;  at  the  upper  end  was  a 
gallery  for  musicians ;  opposite  were 
two  fireplaces  where  huge  logs  crackled 
and  sparkled.  Round  the  sides  was  a 
platform,  slightly  raised  above  the 
spring  floor,  upon  which  stood  rows  of 
yellow  wooden  settees.  Two  glittering 
chandeliers  were  suspended  from  the 
ceiling.  Upon  the  mantels  and  orches- 
tra stood  glass  candelabra  and  candle- 
sticks. 

Here  during  the  winter  a  series  of 
monthly  assemblies  were  held,  at  which 
the  young  people  danced  contra  dances, 
four-handed  and  eight-handed  reels, 
while  their  elders  amused  themselves 
at  the  card  tables  spread  in  the  ante 
rooms.  A  black  waiting  maid,  and 
two  or  three  sable  male  waiters  were  in 
attendance.  The  refreshments  were 
similar  to  those  at  the  parties. 

It  was  expected  the  morning  after  a 
party  or  ball  that  the  gentlemen  should 
call  upon  their  fair  partners  to  inquire 
respecting  their  health.  It  was  com- 


mon for  them  to  drop  in  of  an  evening 
socially.  Sam  L.  Knapp  rendered  him- 
self especially  welcome,  and  Tom  Ca- 
rey's varied  information  and  fine  voice 
fitted  him  for  a  most  entertaining  com- 
panion. Singing  was  a  universal  ac- 
complishment. In  a  few  houses  a  spinet 
or  harpsichord  could  be  found,  but  as 
yet  there  were  but  four  pianos  in  the 
town.  These  belonged  to  the  daugh- 
ters of  Parson  Giles,  Miss  Mary  Coffin, 
Miss  Catharine  Davenport  and  Miss 
Sophronia  Peabody.  A  French  refu- 
gee, formerly  a  nobleman,  whose  name 
I  cannot  recall,  came  from  Boston  once 
in  two  weeks  to  give  these  3'oung  la- 
dies lessons. 

The  organs  in  St.  Paul's  and  the 
Pleasant  street  church  were  played  bv 
Mr.  Daniel  Bay  ley  and  William  Wood, 
the  brother  of  the  author,  George 
Wood. 

The  pianos  were  small,  slender- 
legged,  tinkling  instruments,  imported 
from  Paris.  The  music  was  love  songs, 
dancing  tunes,  etc.,  "Hail  Columbia," 
"Yankee  Doodle,"  the  old  revolution- 
ary song,  "Why  should  vain  mortals 
tremble  at  the  sight  of  death  and  de- 
struction on  the  field  of  battle,"  "Moll 
Brooks,"  "What  can  the  matter  be," 
"The  Campbells  are  coming,"  and  the 
duet  "Shepherds  have  you  seen  my 
Flora  pass  this  way?"  were  favorites. 
I  copy  an  ode  entitled  "Freedom's  An- 
niversary," from  a  music  book  published 
in  1808  : 

"This  day  fires  our  minds, 

This  day  fires  our  minds, 

This  day  fires  our  minus 

With  a  flame  as  arose, 

When  our  sires  drew  the  steel, 

Which  laid  prostrate  our  foes, 

With  mirth  inspiring  lay, 

We'll  celebrate  the  day, 
Till  the  orbs  cease  to  roll  or  the  earth  melts 

away. 


248 


KEMTSTISCEXCES 


Brave  heroes  who  fought, 
Brave  heroes  who  fought, 
Brave  heroes  who  fought, 
And  have  labored  to  crown 

Columbia's  rich  fields  in  the  pride  of  renown, 

From  your  station  on  high  one  moment  look 
down 

On  myriads  of  wretches  that  grovel   around  ; 

To  Afric's  broad   zone  turn  the  wings  of  the 
mind, 

Traverse  regions  unknown  and  nations  un- 
named, 

Or  fly  to  famed  Asia  and  there  you  will  hear, 

Oppression's  loud  clangor,  hoarse  grating  the 
ear; 

Or  haste  to  proud  Europe,   her  regions  ex- 
plore ; 

Mark  the  myriads  that  starve,  yet  kings  they 
adore ; 

Disgusted     with    tyrants,     disgusted    with 
slaves, 

Extend  fancy's  pinions   and  mount  o'er  the 
waves, 

To  your  own  native  clime,  for  there  you  may 
find 

The  wisest  and  happiest  of  all  human   kind. 

Thus  highly  exalted,  ne'er  cease  to  adore 

The  God  of  the  skies,   and  his   mercies   im- 
plore. 

This  day  fires  our  minds, 
This  day  fires  our  minds, 
This  day  fires  our  minds 
With  a  flame  as  arose 
When  our  sires  drew  the  steel 
Which  laid  prostrate  our  foes, 
With  mirth  inspiring  lay, 
We'll  celebrate  the  day, 

Till  the  orbs  cease  to  roll  or  the  earth  melts 

away." 
There  is  a  Thanksgiving  anthem  : 

"Sing  aloud  to  God  our  strength, 

Sing  aloud  to  God  our  strength, 

Sing  aloud  to  God  our  strength,  to  God  our 
strength, 

Make  a  joyful  noise  to  him  with  psalms,  to 
him  with  psalms,  to  him  with  psalms,  to 
him  with  psalms, 

Praise  the  Lord  all   ye  nations,   praise  him, 

praise  him.  praise  him  all  ye  people. 
For  his  mercies  are  great,  his   mercies  are 
great. 

We  will  rejoice  and  give  thanks,  will  rejoice 
and  give  thanks,  will  rejoice  and  give 
thanks,  will  rejoice  and  give  thanks. 


Let  us  come  before  his  presence,  before  his 
presence,  before  his  presence,  with 
thanksgiving,  with  thanksgiving,  with 
thanksgiving,  with  thanksgiving,  and  en- 
ter his  courts  with  praise. 

Thou,  O  Lord,  hast  crowned  the  year  with 
goodness,  with  goodness,  with  goodness. 

The  pastures  are  covered  o'er  with  flocks, 

The  vallies  are  also  covered  o'er  with  corn, 

The  vallies  are  also  covered  o'er  with  corn. 

Hallelujah,  hallelujah,  hallelujar,  hallelujah, 
hallelujah,  amen. 

Hallelujah,  amen,  amen,  hallelujah,  hallelu- 
jah, amen,  amen." 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

For  some  years  an  orphan  asylum 
had  been  established  where  some  half 
dozen  girls  were  reared  and  instructed, 
until  of  an  age  to  become  bound  to  ser- 
vice in  some  family,  there  to  remain 
until  eighteen.  This  institution  was  lo- 
cated on  Federal  street,  and  at  that 
time  was  under  the  supervision  of  Mrs. 
Joanna  Akerman.  The  orphans  were 
dressed  in  uniform.  On  Sunda}-,  head- 
ed by  the  matron,  they  demurely 
walked  two  and  two,  in  procession,  to 
the  Old  South  meetinghouse,  where  a 
pew  in  the  gallery  was  appropriated  to 
their  use. 

That  spring,  to  the  horror  of  the 
more  rigid,  two  dancing  schools  were 
opened,  one  by  Mr.  Ingalls,  at  Union 
Hall,  the  other  by  Mr.  Nichols,  who 
"gave  lessons  as  taught  by  the  cele- 
brated Italian  master,  Mr.  Dochoun. 
Gentlemen  desirous  of  practising  the 
small  sword,  cut  and  thrust,  broad 
sword,  and  a  powerful  defence  with  the 
cane,"  were  desired  to  leave  their 
names  at  the  bookstore  of  Thomas  & 
W hippie.  A  convenient  bathing  house 


OF   A  ISTOXAGENAKIAN. 


249 


was  also  established  on  Water  street, 
above  Market  square. 

At  this  time  two  newspapers  were 
supported  in  Newburyport,  "The  Her- 
ald," which  was  the  Federalist  organ, 
and  the  "Statesman,"  Democratic.  A 
large  circulating  library  was  well  pat- 
ronized, and  there  were  several  good 
private  libraries  in  the  town.  These 
were  anxious  times,  and  the  news  from 
Europe  was  impatiently  awaited .  Buon- 
aparte was  in  the  midst  of  his  career, 
his  progress  was  eagerly  watched,  and 
the  accounts  of  his  success  were  read 
with  wonder  and  avidity.  Byron  and 
Scott  had  begun  to  enchant  the  world. 
"Elizabeth,  or  the  Exile  of  Siberia," 
was  the  new  novel  which  every  one  was 
perusing. 

In  speaking  of  the  business  of  the 
town  I  omitted  the  truckmen,  compris- 
ing a  tall,  stalwart  band  of  men,  who 
in  their  long  white  frocks,  made  a  good- 
ly show  in  Fourth  of  July  and  other 
civic  processions.  Sometimes  of  an  af- 
ternoon, when  the  business  for  the  day 
was  over,  they  would  drive  in  a  line 
through  the  streets,  their  fine  horses, 
and  long,  tilting,  clattering  trucks 
noisily  breaking  the  quiet  monotony. 
In  the  winter,  on  their  sleds,  in  this 
way,  they  frequently  volunteered  to  aid 
in  breaking  the  paths.  In  addition  to 
these  drays  a  large  business  was  done 
by  ox  teams,  one  or  more  pair  of  oxen 
yoked  to  a  two-wheeled  cart.  Mr. 
Nathaniel  Bricket,  Mr.  Samuel  Wheel- 
er and  Mr.  Charles  Chase  were  noted 
teamsters. 

Back  of  the  Pond  stood  a  collection 
of  low,  unpainted  huts.  This  village 
was  st3'led  "Guinea."  Here  were  the 
homes  of  the  colored  population,  of 
which  there  was  quite  a  number. 
These  were  mostly  descendants  of  ser- 

32 


vants  formerly  held  as  slaves  in  our 
first  households.  Many  considering 
themselves  as  still  connected  with  the 
old  master's  family,  in  any  emergency 
always  looked  to  it  for  advice,  care  and 
consideration. 

In  those  days  of  huge  wood  fires,  it 
was  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  burn- 
ing of  a  chimnej7  to  endanger  a  whole 
neighborhood.  A  law  was  enacted  that 
every  chimney  should  be  swept  once  a 
year.  Lilly  White,  a  tall,  lithe  negro, 
was  the  principal  sweep,  followed  by 
his  little  apprentice  boy  bearing  a  bag 
of  clothes.  Lilly  perambulated  the 
streets,  brandishing  his  brooms  and  cry- 
ing: 

"Lilly  White  has  come  to  town, 
To  sweep  the  chimney  tip  and  down, 
If  he  does  not  sweep  them  clean 
He  shall  not  have  his  pistareen." 

Clement  Paul,  a  genteel  waiter,  was 
a  favorite  in  the  upper  circles.  Joe 
Fatal,  Col.  Greenleafs  darky,  Old 
Cambridge,  who  could  remember  being 
kidnapped  when  a  child  and  brought  to 
this  country  in  a  slave  vessel,  Jimmy 
,Paul,  Sip  Burnham  and  others  were 
useful  members  of  society,  and  respect- 
ed citizens.  Many  colored  women  did 
washing,  and  black  Luce  was  a  famous 
nurse.  Old  Luce  Pero,  a  beggar  tramp, 
generally  accompanied  by  one  or  more 
children,  was  the  horror  of  the  more  in- 
fantile population  ;  the  threat  "old  Luce 
Pero  will  catch  you,"  was  sufficient  to 
quell  the  most  turbulent  urchin.  Co- 
burn  had  a  remarkably  aristocratic  dar- 
key employed  in  his  hotel.  Much  ad- 
miring a  pair  of  boots  which  Ebenezer 
Mosely,  esq.,  had  purchased,  the  negro 
waiter  strutted  into  the  store  of  Os- 
good  &  Brackett,  and  with  a  pompous 
air  ordered  a  similar  pair,  adding,  much 
to  the  amusement  of  Messrs.  Osgood 


250 


KEMENISCEXCES 


&  Brackett,  "Let  'em  be  jes  like 
Squire  Moseley's,  only  a  quarter  dollar 
better" 

No  fish  market  had  been  established, 
fresh  fish  was  vended  about  the  streets 
in  wheelbarrows.  Clams  in  the  shell 
were  sold ;  none  were  then  shucked. 
Sometimes  the  "Algeiines"  from  Sea- 
brook  peddled  about  boiled  clams  taken 
from  the  shell,  but  clams  were  regarded 
as  a  plebeian  dish,  from  which  many 
persons  turned  in  disgust.  The  chief 
fishmongers  were  Flood,  and  Jim  Ball. 

The  famous  witch  of  the  town  was  a 
woman  known  as  Madame  Hooper. 
Her  earl}'  history  has  remained  a  mys- 
tery. She  came  to  Newbuiy  about 
1760,  and  for  a  time  was  the  dame  of 
a  school  at  the  south  end  ;  afterward 
she  became  a  famous  fortune  teller, 
rivalling  in  celebrity  Moll  Pitcher  of 
Lynn ;  her  home  on  Cottle's  Lane  being 
visited  by  persons  of  all  ages  and  class- 
es from  near  and  afar.  In  person 
Madam  Hooper  was  short  and  stout, 
with  a  strong^  marked  countenance, 
glittering  gray  eyes,  and  a  full  set  of 
double  teeth ;  her  appearance  was  that 
of  one  born  and  bred  in  good  society, 
though  from  the  first  a  peculiarity  had 
been  evinced  in  her  demeanor  which  in- 
creased with  years.  She  was  well  ed- 
ucated and  accomplished,  and  brought 
\  with  her  on  coming  to  town,  a  very  ex- 
tensive and  handsome  wardrobe,  rich 
brocades  and  the  like,  which  were  worn 
without  remodelling  to  the  end  of  her 
long  life.  These  antique  garments, 
with  a  unique  bonnet  of  her  own  fash- 
ion, combined  with  an  oracular,  sibyllic 
manner  4  were  calculated  to  inspire  cred- 
ulous people  with  the  awe  and  wonder 
which  she  coveted.  Children  ran  at  her 
approach,  and  their  elders  from  fear  of 
the  "evil  eye"  were  lavish  in  courtesy. 


Thus  the  witch  carried  matters  with  a 
high  hand,  visiting  where  she  chose, 
generally  acting  her  own  pleasure  with- 
out much  regard  to  the  wishes  or  con- 
venience of  others,  few  venturing  to 
cross  one  whom  so  man}'  considered  as 
possessing  supernatural  powers.  This 
reputation  was  artfully  sustained .  Often 
her  visitors  were  received  in  impur- 
turbable  silence,  but  when  an  answer 
was  vouchsafed  it  usually  was  verified. 
This  foresight  and  sagacity  succeeded 
in  securing  dupes  for  man}-  years.  She 
kept  a  pet  fowl,  black  in  plumage,  with 
a  clipped  bill  and  claws,  which  was  re- 
gnrded  as  her  "familiar."  Madame 
Hooper  lived  to  an  advanced  age.  but 
at  length  died  in  poverty  and  degrada- 
tion, unmourned  butnot  unremembered. 
Her  name  had  become  a  household 
word,  which  has  been  handed  down 
through  'the  generations  as  one  of  the 
marvels  of  the  past.  Perhaps  if  the 
secrets  of  her  life  could  be  unmasked 
we  should  pity  rather  than  condemn. 
Billy  Watkins  was  a  somewhat  eccen- 
tric individual,  who  owned  a  large  es- 
tate on  Water  street.  Foony  Gerrish, 
a  wig  maker,  often  became  the  jest  of 
the  populace.  Though  illiterate,  he 
evinced  a  desire  to  rank  amongst  the 
educated.  On  one  occasion  a  person 
in  the  bar  room  of  the  "Wolfe  Tavern" 
perceiving  him  seemingly  intent  upon 
perusing  a  newspaper  which  was  held 
bottom  upward,  inquired,  "What  is  the 
news,  Mr.  Gerrish?"  "Terrible  gales," 
hurriedly  returned  the  old  man,  "terri- 
ble gales,  ship.s  all  bottom  upwards." 
Wishing  to  be  thought  a  man  of  busi- 
ness Foouy  bought  a  ledger.  That 
morning  he  sold  a  wig,  for  which,  much 
to  the  purchaser's  astonishment,  he  de- 
clined to  take  payment,  "he  would 
charge  it."  At  night  he  detained  one 


OF  A 


251 


of  the  young  clerks  in  the  neighbor- 
hood to  note  it  down.  Having  written 
the  date  the  3"oung  man  inquired  the 
name  of  the  debtor.  Foony  looked 
puzzled,  scratched  his  head,  he  "never 
thought  to  inquire  the  name,"  but  after 
a  moment's  deliberation  he  added, 
"Never  mind,  put  it  down,  one  wig  to 
a  man  that  looked  like  an  Amesbury 
man."  Whether  Foony  received  the 
price  of  the  wig  from  this  dubiously 
described  individual  I  am  unable  to 
state. 

Another  notoriety  was  '  'Bumble  Bee 
Titcomb,"  a  carpenter  by  trade.  While 
at  work  at  his  bench  a  bumblebee  light- 
ed near  his  hand.  Mr.  Titcomb  raised 
his  hatchet,  ejaculating,  "Now,  old  fel- 
low, your  end  has  come !  Say  your 
prayers,  for  death  is  nigh.  One,  two, 
three — strike  !"  Down  went  the  hatch- 
et, cutting  off  the  end  of  Mr.  Titcomb's 
thumb,  while  the  bumblebee,  having 
flown  up  and  stung  the  end  of  his  nose, 
buzzed  exultantly  away  through  the 
open  door.  Ever  after  the  carpenter 
was  known  th.oughout  the  town  as 
"Bumble  Bee  Titcomb." 

Another  of  the  celebrities  of  the 
town  was  Mr.  Enoch  Toppan,  common- 
ly called  "Rhymer  Toppan,"  as  he  was 
never  at  a  loss  for  a  rhyme.  One  day, 
at  the  market  house,  Mr.  James  Ca- 
rey and  Mr.  Richard  Adams  laid  a 
wager  respecting  Mr.  Toppan's  instant- 
ly returning  an  answer  in  rhyme.  Mr. 
Toppan  was  across  the  square.  From 
the  steps  of  the  market  house  Mr. 
Carej-  sang  out,  "Mr.  Toppan,  so  they 
say,  bu3rs  his  meat  and  never'll  pa}-." 
To  which  was  responded,  "Jimmy  Ca- 
rey, if  that  be  true,  I'll  always  have 
my  meat  of  j'ou."  Mr.  Carey  was 
obliged  to  "stand  treat." 

For   years  the   chief  wonder  of  the 


place  was  Lord   Timothy  Dexter,   his 
hairless  dog  and  his  images.     This  man 
was  born  in  Maiden  in  1743.     He  came 
to  Newburyport  in  early  manhood   and 
married  a  Miss  Frothingham,  from  the 
old  Frothingham  mansion  on  the  corner 
of  High  and  Olive   street.     In  a  short 
time  he  obtained  a  large  fortune  by  tak- 
ing advantage  of  the  markets  and   by 
lucky  adventures.     His  first  successful 
speculation  was  buj'ing  up  continental 
notes  when    depreciated,    and    selling 
them    when  a  prospect  of    redemption 
had  raised   their  value.     His  specula- 
tions in  mittens,  warming-pans,  whale- 
bone and  the  like,  are   widely  known. 
Though    ignorant    and  illiterate,    and 
doubtless   somewhat  indebted  to  luck 
for  his  good   fortune,    still  it  is  evident 
the   man  was  both    shrewd  and   saga- 
cious.    His     vanity    was     inordinate. 
Under  any  circumstances  it  is  probable 
he  would  have  proved  an  eccentricity, 
still,  such  were  the  convivial   habits  of 
the  period,  and  constantly   surrounded 
as  he  was,    by  a  band   of  sycophantic 
boon  C9mpanions,  who   spurred  him  on 
to  all  sorts  of  ridiculous   sayings   and 
doings,  one  can  scarcely  judge  what  the 
character  of  the  man  would  have  been 
under  the  teetotal  regime  of  Neal  Dow. 
Having  bought  the  fine   Jackson   man- 
sion on  High  street,  nearly  opposite  his 
wife's  maiden  home,  he  began  to  beau- 
tify it  after  his  own  design.     Mr.  James 
Wilson  was  a  carver  of  figure   heads  of 
ships.     Dexter  conceived   the   idea  of 
employing  Mr.  Wilson  to  embellish  his 
house  and  grounds  with  wooden  statues. 
These  figures  were   remarkable   speci- 
mens in  wood  carving.     In   this   work 
Mr.  Wilson   displayed  the   power  of  a 
sculptor  ;  it  is  a  pity  he  never   aspired 
to  works  of    greater    durability.     The 
figures  of  Washington,  Adams  and  Jef- 


252 


REMTSTISCEXCES 


ferson,  over  the  front  door,  were  excel- 
lent, and  the  other  figures,  the  eagle 
upon  the  cupola,  and  the  animals,  were 
life-like  and  in  good  proportion.  Dex- 
ter built  a  tomb  in  the  garden  ;  on  its 
completion  he  got  up  a  mock  funeral, 
had  his  wife  and  family  arrayed  in 
mourning,  acted  his  part  as  corpse,  and 
was  borne  to  the  sepulchre  with  due 
funeral  rites.  After  his  resurrection 
and  return  to  the  house  he  beat  his  wife 
because  she  did  not  weep  while  follow- 
ing him  to  the  grave.  He  kept  a  per- 
son in  his  house  named  Jonathan 
Plumrner,  who  stj'led  himself  "physi- 
cian, preacher,  and  poet  laureate,  to 
his  excellence-  Timothy  Dexter,  Earl  of 
Chester,  and  Knight  of  the  two  open- 
mouthed  lions."  In  those  daj'S  it  was 
the  practice  to  send  notes  to  be  read  at 
public  worship  before  the  long  prayer, 
requesting  suitable  petitions  in  time  of 
affliction,  or  on  occasions  of  joy.  Be- 
low is  a  note  sent  b}-  the  poet  laureate, 
and  read  in  his  pulpit  b}-  the  Rev. 
Charles  Milton : 

"Jonathan  Plummer  jr.,  de.sires  to 
return  thanks  to  the  transcendently  po- 
tent controler  of  the  universe,  for  his 
marvellous  kindness  to  him  in  raising 
him  from  a  desperately  low  and  peril- 
ous indisposition,  to  such  a  measure  of 
strength  and  health  that  he  is  again 
able  with  gladness  of  heart  and  trans- 
porting rapture  of  mind,  to  wait  at  the 
celestial  portals  of  wisdom.  The  said 
Plummer  also  desires  to  give  thanks  to 
Alpha  and  Omega,  the  first  and  the  last, 
the  beginning  and  the  end,  for  his  as- 
tonishing favor,  his  captivating  mercy, 
and  his  personal  regard  to  him  in 
snatching  him  from  endless  grief  and 
everlasting  woe,  in  a  miraculous  man- 
ner ;  by  light  in  dreams;  for  causing' 
the  day  to  dawn  in  his  heart,  and  the 


da3Tspriug  from  on  high  to  illuminate 
his  dark  and  benighted  understanding  ; 
for  chasing  far  from  him  the  gloomy  fog 
of  infidelity,  and  enabling  him  triumph- 
antly to  rejoice  in  the  glorious  light  and 
liberty  of  the  Gospel,  wherein  his  bless- 
ed Redeemer  has  crowned  his  happy 
life." 

The  Rev.  Parson  Milton's  response 
to  these  requests  was,  "O  Lord,  have 
mercy  on  this  over-pompous  brother, 
whose  wordy  rhetoric  has  just  startled 
our  ears  ;  save  us  from  cant,  bombast, 
and  all  the  wiles  of  the  devil.  Amen." 

I  copy  a  document  of  Plumrner's, 
headed  "The  Author's  Last  Will  and 
Testament."  "Preparatory  Address 
to  the  Readers.  Ladies  and  Gentle- 
men :  At  the  request  of  a  number  of 
worth}*  friends,  I  now  furnish  you  with 
my  last  will  and  testament.  You  will 
doubtless  think  it  a  very  singular  pro- 
duction, and  you  will  think  right ;  for, 
excepting  a  few  lines  in  the  beginning, 
which  are  partly  borrowed  from  the  last 
will  of  a  celebrated  writer,  and  the  last 
paragraph,  which  is  taken  from  Fisher, 
I  believe  nothing  like  it  has  ever  been 
published  or  written. 

But  the  will  is  not  more  singular  than 
the  usage  which  occasioned  it.  What 
this  usage  was  I  shall  not  now  under- 
take to  disclose,  for  to  do  justice  to  the 
subject  would  I  believe  require  a  con- 
siderable number  of  volumes  ;  and  be- 
sides, my  abilities  are  inadequate,  vast- 
ly inadequate  to  the  ponderous  task. 
Was  the  celebrated  Cicero  again  per- 
mitted to  live  in  our  world  I  fane}-  he 
might  talk  day  and  night  on  the  sub- 
ject, might  entirely  exhaust  his  une- 
qualed  eloquence,  might  move  earth 
and  perhaps  Heaven,  to  pity,  to  com- 
miseration, and  to  tears,  and  perhaps 
not  half  disclose  the  affecting  scene, 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


253 


not  half  display  the  inexpressible  an- 
guish with  which  the  barbarous  treat- 
ment of  a  certain  man  has  oppi'essed 
my  tender  soul. 

The  resentment  which  I  now  displa}" 
is  not  the  effect  of  any  sudden  and  un- 
reasonable gust  of  passion.  I  have 
long  dispassionately  considered  the  sub- 
ject, and  the  influence  of  religion,  of 
justice,  of  duty  to  parents,  of  good 
breeding,  and  of  every  other  incentive 
to  moderation,  foil}'  only  excepted,  has 
been  in  this  case  eagerly  sought  after, 
listened  to,  and  properly  regarded 
by  me. 

I,  Jonathan  Plummer  jr.,  of  New- 
bury,  in  the  Commonwealth  of  Massa- 
chusetts, seriously  considering  the  un- 
certaintj'  of  human  life,  do,  while  in  a 
sound  state  of  mind,  and  in  tolerable 
bodily  health,  make  this  my  last  will 
and  testament ;  being  determined  to 
dispose  of  all  my  earthly  property,  not 
as  custom  may  prompt,  but  as  justice 
and  equity  seem  to  direct.  I  most  hum- 
bly recommend  my  soul  to  the  exten- 
sive mercy  of  that  supreme,  eternal,  in- 
telligent Being,  who  gave  it  me  ;  at  the 
same,  time  most  earnestly  deprecating 
his  justice.  If  I  die  in  Newbury  or  in 
any  place  within  twenty  miles  of  it,  I 
desire  to  be  buried  in  the  burying 
ground  which  is  near  the  meeting  house, 
of  the  first  parish  in  this  town,  and  that 
I  may  be  carried  to  the  grave  from  my 
own  apartment.  Should  my  father,  or 
any,  or  either  of  my  brothers  have  the 
hypocrisy  to  follow  me  in  mourning,  or 
to  walk  between  my  coffin  and  the  other 
people  who  happen  to  attend  my  fu- 
neral, I  desire  m}-  executor  to  endeavor 
to  prevent  their  so  doing.  Should  my 
mammy  and  my  oldest  sister  outlive 
me,  1  desire  them  to  walk  next  to  my 
coffin  dressed  in  ,  decent  customar 


mourning,  and  as  many  of  the  ladies 
whose  names  I  shall  mention  in  this 
will,  as  happen  to  attend  my  funeral,  to 
follow  them,  but  not  in  mourning.  As 
the  usage  I  have  received  from  my 
father  and  brothers  has  given  me  tor- 
tures which  no  tongue  can  express,  I 
do  not  mean  that  they  shall  be  much 
the  better  for  my  property  which  I  may 
happen  to  leave  in  this  world.  But, 
nevertheless,  as  my  father  happened 
somehow  or  other,  when  he  first  made 
a  will,  so  far  to  forget  his  enmity  as  to 
bequeath  me  about  a  thirtieth  part  of 
what  he  was  then  worth,  as  a  grateful 
return  for  this  almost  miraculous  favor, 
I  give  and  bequeath  to  him  the  sum  of 
seventeen  shillings  ;  which  is  not  far 
from  a  thirtieth  part  of  what  I  was  pos- 
sessed of  when  I  for  the  first  tune  com- 
mitted a  will  to  writing.  As  something 
influenced  my  father  to  order  the  sum 
which  he  bequeathed  me  to  be  handed 
to  me  in  ten  annual  payments,  his  con- 
duct influences  me  to  treat  him  in  the 
same  manner.  I  desire  my  executor  to 
pay  him  the  above  seventeen  shillings 
in  ten  different  yearly  payments.  One 
shilling,  eight  pence,  one  farthing  and 
a  half  yearly,  the  first  nine  years  after 
my  death,  and  the  tenth  year  one  shil- 
ling, eight  pence,  two  farthings  and  a 
half.  But  should  my  father  die  before 
he  has  received  all  which  I  bequeath 
him  in  this  manner,  it  is  my  will  that 
my  executor  keep  what  remains  in  his 
hands  of  the  seventeen  shillings  at  the 
time  of  my  father's  death,  for  his  own 
proper  use  and  benefit.  This  is  all  the 
money  whiqh  I  can  conscientiously  give 
my  father,  but  at  the  same  time  I  wish 
him  riches  more  durable,  more  inestim- 
ably valuable  than  gold.  I  wish  him 
that  precious  light  of  Christ  which  once 
partly  illumined  his  now  (in  my  opin- 


254 


REMINISCENCES 


ion)  benighted  understanding.  I  wish 
him,  and  was  it  in  my  power,  I  would 
bequeath  him  such  a  portion  of  the 
blood  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Redeem- 
er, as  would  wash  him  from  all  sin,  en- 
able him  to  face  me  at  the  bar  of  the 
righteous  judge  at  the  great  day,  and 
rescue  him  from  those  torments  which 
the  abuse  which  I  have  received  from 
him  so  amply  and  so  eternally  deserves. 
My  mamma  having  used  me  as  a  son,  I 
should  be  glad  to  leave  all  the  rest  of 
my  property  to  her,  if  it  was  not  nearly 
the  same  thing  as  leaving  it  to  nry  fath- 
er and  brothers  ;  but  her  interest  is  so 
nearly  connected  with  theirs,  and  the 
good  which  I  have  received  from  her 
has  been  so  many  hundred  times  coun- 
terbalanced by  the  evil  treatment  which 
I  have  received  from  them,  that  I  can- 
not conscientiously  reward  her  kind- 
ness any  farther  than  by  giving  her  a 
share  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
ladies  mentioned  in  this  will. 

It  is  my  will  that  my  executor,  soon 
after  my  decease,  convert  all  my  real 
and  personal  estate  into  read}*  money. 
That  he  shall  collect  what  happens  to 
be  due  me,  and  sell  all  my  property, 
of  whatever  kind  it  happens  to  be,  by 
public  auction  or  private  sale,  one  or 
both,  as  he  shall  think  proper  ;  and  that 
after  deducting  the  aforesaid  legacy  of 
seventeen  shillings,  paying  all  my  just 
debts,  and  taking  pay  for  his  own  time, 
trouble  and  expense,  and  what  time, 
trouble  and  expense  he  shall  then  ex- 
pect to  be  incumbered  with  as  executor 
to  this  my  last  will  and  testament.  After 
doing  this  I  say,  it  is  my  will  that  he 
soon  after  equally  divide  all  the  remain- 
ing part  of  my  money  among  the  fol- 
lowing amiable  ladies,  as  many  of  them 
I  mean  as  happen  at  that  time  to  be 
alive,  viz :  My  mamma,  Miss  Anna 


Bayley,  the  two  oldest  daughters  that 
are  not  now  married,  of  Capt.  Jonathan 
Poor,  Misses  Judea  Plummer  and  Han- 
nah Plummer,  daughters  of  Mr.  Jere- 
miah Plummer ;  Misses  Else  Adams, 
Rhoda  Plummer,  Rebekah  Xoyes.  Mar- 
garet Robinson,  Mary  Hook,  Charlotte 
Ilsle^',  Jemima  Knight,  Hannah  Adams, 
daughter  of  the  late  Mr.  Richard  Ad- 
ams deceased,  Ruth  Short,  daughter  of 
Mr.  James  Short  jr.,  Eunice  Pearson, 
Mary  Xoyes,  and  the  very  amiable  Sa- 
rah Little,  daughter  of  Mr.  Richard 
Little ,  the  transcendently  amiable 
Misses  Else  Tucker,  Mary  Tucker, 
Elizabeth  Tucker,  Charlotte  Tucker, 
Clarissa  Tucker,  Catharine  Tucker  and 
Hannah  Tracy ;  the  handsome  Mrs. 
Mary  Xoyes,  widow  of  the  late  Capt. 
John  Xo}"es  deceased,  and  the  bloom- 
ing widow  Huldah  Xoyes  the  consort 
of  Mr.  William  Stickue}* ;  the  consort 
of  Mr.  John  Holland,  and  the  consort 
of  Mr.  George  Adams  of  Xewbur}-  in 
the  Commonwealth  aforesaid  ;  Mrs.  Ju- 
dea Kent  and  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Pike, 
spotless  widows ;  the  transcendently 
lovely  Mrs.  Lydia  St.  Barb,  Abigail 
Cutler,  Hannah  Boardman,  Sarah  "\Vig- 
glesworth  and  Katherine  Wigglesworth  ; 
the  eminently  amiable  Misses  Mary 
Barber,  Elizabeth  Greenleaf,  daughter 
of  Mr.  Abner  Greenleaf;  Lucy  Lunt, 
Sarah  Smith,  Catharine  Murray,  Eliza- 
beth Ingalls,  Maria  Ingalls,  Mary 
Moulton,  Maiy  Sweat,  Eunice  Sawyer, 
Abigail  Boardman.  Sarah  Couch,  Anna 
Couch,  Anna  Dodge,  Isabella  Thomp- 
son, Lydia  Thompson,  Hannah  Xoyes, 
Jane  Xoj'es,  Sarah  Alexander.  Mary 
Alexander,  Mary  Moody.  Sarah  Mood}*, 
daughters  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Moody  of 
Xewburyport,  in  the  Commonwealth 
aforesaid ;  Mrs.  Eleanor  Weeks  of 
Candia  in  Chester,  and  Miss  Elizabeth 


OP   A 


255 


Plumer  of  Exeter,  in  the  state  of  New 
Hampshire. 

I  meant  to  write  the  aforesaid  list  of 
names  for  certain  reasons,  without  any 
epithets  denoting  the  qualities  of  the 
ladies,  but  it  is  very  difficult  for  me  to 
speak  about  such  heavenly  lassies  with- 
out these  epithets,  and  I  doubt  whether 
even  the  pope  or  his  nuncio,  if  he  knew 
them  as  well  as  I  do,  could  go  through 
the  task  which  I  meant  to  perform. 
Had  I  allowed  free  scope  to  my  inclina- 
tion I  should  have  added  a  shining  ep- 
ithet to  each  of  the  respected  names, 
nor  should  I  then  have  done  more  than 
each  of  the  lovely  ladies  deserve  from 
my  pen.  I  am  sensible  that  the  total 
sum  of  my.  fortune  is  but  trifling,  but  I 
hope  to  make  a  considerable  addition 
to  it,  and  should  I  die  without  being 
married,  I  mean  that  the  aforesaid 
ladies  shall  have  all  that  I  leave 
after  seventeen  shillings  are  deducted 
from  it,  be  it  more  or  less.  The}'  saw 
me  afflicted  and  tormented  by  a  man 
from  whom  I  might  naturally  expect 
better  usage  ;  and  while  I  believe  this 
man  was  laboring  to  destroy  my  char- 
acter and  retard  my  fortune,  with  en- 
mity more  abusive  than  death,  more 
cruel  than  the  grave ;  when  I  was 
warmly  contending  with  poverty,  rags 
and  wretchedness,  I  received  from  these 
ladies  such  friendly  treatment  as  ren- 
dered my  low  estate  not  only  tolerable 
but  in  some  measure  happy,  while  some 
less  virtuous  ladies  seemed  to  rejoice 
at  my  misfortune,  and  denied  me  the 
common  civilities  of  life,  even  the  favor 
of  walking  the  ground  with  them. 
The  above  named  ladies  not  only 
I'tiiled  to  imitate  them  in  these  respects, 
but  gave  me  reason  to  think  that  they 
wished  to  see  me  in  better  circumstan- 
ces. The  value  of  the  civilities  which 


I  have  received  from  them  is  greatly 
enhanced  when  I  consider  the  immense 
wisdom  and  angelic  beauty  of  a  great 
part,  and  the  captivating  amiableness 
of  the  whole  number.  Considering 
these  things,  I  know  no  bounds  that  I 
ought  to  set  to  my  gratitude,  love  and 
esteem.  Had  I  ten  millions  of  dollars 
to  dispose  of  more  than  I  have,  I  would 
freely  will  it  all  to  them.  I  wish  them 
the  most  consummate  earthly  felicity, 
and  was  it  in  my  power  to  insure  them 
seats  in  paradise,  I  should  not  eat  nor 
drink  with  half  the  pleasure  that  I 
should  take  in  conveying  to  them  the 
most  delightful  mansions  in  those 
realms  of  bliss.  I  think  it  apparent 
from  Scripture  that  departed  souls  re- 
tain a  remembrance  of  the  friendly  deeds 
of  their  benefactors  in  this  world,  and 
I  confess  that  I  am  not  without  hopes 
of  being  serviceable  to  those  lovely 
nymphs  in  the  regions  which  we  shall 
inhabit  beyond  the  grave  ;  even  after 
ten  million  times  ten  million  years  have 
rolled  away,  I  hope  to  give  them  fresh 
marks  of  my  present  unfeigned  and 
boundless  regard. 

I  make,  constitute,  ordain  and  ap- 
point Mr.  Edmund  Knight  of  this- town, 
sole  executor  to  this  m}-  last  will  and 
testament,  hereby  renouncing,  disallow- 
ing and  disannulling  all  former  wills, 
testaments,  executors,  legacies  or  be- 
quests by  'me  in  whatever  manner 
named,  willed  bequeathed,  hereby  rati- 
fymg  and  confirming  this  and  this  only 
to  be  my  last  will  and  testament.  In 
testimony  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set 
my  hand  and  seal." 

Dexter  owned  a  farm  in  Chester,  and 
consequently  styled  himself  Earl  of 
Chester.  He  erected  handsome  build- 
ing on  this  estate,  and  these  were  deco- 
rated with  several  images,  which  were 


256 


REMINISCENCES 


a  wonder  in  that  region  for  a  long  time. 
The  poet  laureate's  description  of  his 
lordship  and  the  Dexter  mansion  ran  in 
this  wise : 

"Lord  Dexter  was  a  man  of  fame, 
And  celebrated  was  his  name. 
His  house  was  white, 
And  trimmed  with  green, 
And  on  the  top  an  eagle  seen. 

Lord  Dexter,  like  King  Solomon, 
Hath  gold  and  silver  by  the  ton ; 
And  bells  to  Qhurches  he  has  given 
To  worship  the  great  King  of  Heaven, 

Two  lions  stand  to  guard  the  door, 
With  mouths  wide  open  to  devour 
All  enemies  who  dare  oppose 
Lord  Dexter  or  his  shady  groves. 

The  images  around  him  stand, 
For  they  were  made  at  his  command ; 
Looking  to  see  Lord  Dexter  come, 
With  fixed  eyes  they  see  him  home." 

Dexter  gave  the  Harris  street  church 
$333.33  to  purchase  a  bell,  and  a  simi- 
lar sum  was  presented  to  St.  Paul's  so- 
ciety. He  evinced  a  praiseworthy  lib- 
erality in  aiding  anyf  enterprise  that 
would  benefit  the  town,  taking  over  a 
hundred  shares  in  the, Essex  Merrimac 
bridge.  On  the  Fourth  of  Jul}7  follow- 
ing its  completion  he  delivered  an  ora- 
tion th'ere,  which,  sa}*s  the  Essex  Jour- 
nal, "For  elegance  of  style,  propriety 
of  speech,  and  force  pf  argument  was 
truly  Ciceronian ! !" 

Lord  Timoth}r  also  greatly  improved 
the  roads  around  his  mansion.  His  of- 
fer to  pave  High  street,  and  to  build  a 
brick  market  house,  if  the}7  might  bear 
his  name  the  town  rejected ;  but  the 
two  thousand  dollars  he  bequeathed  in 
his  will,  "the  interest  of  which  he  di- 
rected the  overseers  of  the  poor  annu- 
ally to  distribute  to  such  of  the  poor  of 
the  town  as  are  the  most  necessitous, 
who  are  not  in  the  workhouse,"  was  ac- 
cepted and  acknowledged  with  gratitude 


and  thankfulness."  Determined  to  rank 
amongst  those  whose  names  never  die, 
Dexter  wrote  a  book  entitled  "A  Pickle 
for  the  Knowing  Ones."  A  sufficiently 
original  production  to  obtain  its  author's 
aim.  Punctuation  was  omitted  till  the 
last  page,  which  was  closely  covered 
with  the  various  marks,  the  readers  be- 
ing directed  "to  pepper  and  salt  it  as 
they  pleased." 

Dexter  died  in  1806  and  his  house 
was  rented  for  a  tavern.  The  widow 
of  his  only  son,  Samuel,  and  his  only 
daughter,  Mrs.  Bishop,  boarding  with 
the  landlord's  family.  As  the  images 
decayed  they  were  removed,  but  the 
three  presidents  remained  over  the  front 
door  for  many  years.  As  the  tomb  in 
the  garden  was  near  the  house,  it  did 
not  become  Lord  Timothy's  mausole- 
um, he  was  interred  with  his  wife  and 
son  on  Bur}*ing  Hill,  the  garden  tomb 
continuing  an  object  of  interest  to  vis- 
itors at  the  hotel  until  a  comparatively 
recent  date. 

The  streets  of  Newburj-port,  though 
greatly  improved,  were  often  unprovid- 
ed with  gravelled  sidewalks.  There 
were  but  few  pavements,  and  those 
principal!}7  before  some  of  the  larger 
mansions.  The  bricks  were  usually 
laid  side  up,  some  presenting  a  zig-zag 
or  herring  bone  pattern. 

Prior  to  1800  the  town  commenced 
to  plant  shade  trees.  Lombard}'  pop- 
lars were  a  favorite  avenue  tree.  The 
Boston  turnpike  had  a  row  on  either 
side  as  far  out  as  "Old  Maid's  Hall," 
and  it  was  common  to  see  three  of 
these  stiff  trees  before  a  house,  tower- 
ing sentinel  like  on  the  edge  of  the  side- 
walk. 

On  Merrimac  street  nearly  opposite 
Broad,  is  an  ancient  house  which  was 
formerly  a  noted  inn,  known  as  "Spauld- 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


257 


ing's  Tavern."  The  Stone  house,  on  a 
farm  near  the  Upper  Green,  Oldtown, 
is  another  very  ancient  mansion.  This 
farm  was  first  owned  by  Mr.  John 
Spencer,  who  sold  it  to  Capt.  Daniel 
Pierce.  Capt.  Pierce  erected  a  dwell- 
ing of  stone,  after  the  style  of  an  old 
English  manor  house.  This  was  the 
girlhood  home  of  Martha  Pierce,  the 
mother  of  my  great  grandfather  John- 
son. Afterwards  the  place  was  owned 
by  Mr.  Nathaniel  Tracy,  whose  family 
resided  there  some  years  ;  it  next  be- 
came the  property  of  Capt.  Offin  Board- 
man,  who  built  the  wooden  wing  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  house,  and  the  L  in 
the  rear.  Capt.  Boardman  sold  the  es- 
tate to  Mr.  John  Pettingel,  and  at  the 
time  of  which  I  am  writing,  it  was 
known  by  the  name  of  the  Pettingel 
Farm.  At  one  time  this  house,  on  ac- 
count of  its  safety,  was  the  depot  for 
the  town's  powder.  One  of  Mr. 
Pierce's  negro  slaves,  having  placed  a 
lighted  candle  in  a  keg  of  powder,  blew 
out  one  side  of  the  house,  and  much 
to  her  consternation  lodged  herself 
amongst  the  limbs  of  a  large  apple  tree. 
There  are  many  legends  connected  with 
this  antique  dwelling,  which,  if  its  walls 
could  speak,  would  man}7  a  tale  unfold. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  in  the  early 
days,  the  males  being  absent,  an  Indian 
who  came  with  evil  intent,  was  forced 
by  the  females  of  the  family  into  a  chest 
in  the  cellar,  where  his  earthly  career 
soon  closed,  and  that  thereafter  his 
shade  haunted  the  spot. 

Another  ancient  family  residence  is 
situated  in  the  "Farms  District,"  New- 
bur}\  The  place  originally  belonged  to 
John  Hull,  who  died  in  1670.  At  his 
decease  it  was  purchased  b}'  John,  old- 
est son  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Noyes,  who 
built  the  house  soon  after.  The  home- 

33 


stead  has  descended  from  father  to  son 
to  the  sixth  generation.  John's  son 
and  grandson  were  both  named  Daniel. 
Maj.  Samuel  Noyes  and  his  son  Samuel 
to  Luther,  his  fourth  son.  The  seventh 
generation  are  in  his  family,  and  two  of 
the  eighth  have  been  born  there.  The 
house,  a  substantial  edifice,  was  built 
in  a  stjrle  unusual  for  a  farmhouse  in 
those  early  days.  The  front  hall  is 
wainscotted,  and  a  handsome  staircase, 
with  the  elaborately  carved  balusters 
then  fashionable  for  the  first-class  man- 
sions, leads  to  the  second  story.  The 
kitchen  fireplace  has  been  reconstructed, 
but  when  built  it  was  huge  even  for  the 
period ;  an  ox  could  easily  have  been 
roasted  whole  in  its  capacious  recess. 
This  house  has  been  the  birthplace  of 
several  clergymen,  physicians,  and  oth- 
er distinguished  persons.  Dr.  Daniel 
Poore's  mother  was  one  of  the  daugh- 
ters of  the  family  ;  her  son  was  named 
for  his  grandfather,  Daniel  Noyes.  On 
this  Noyes  farm  is  located  one  of  the 
most  promising  of  the  newly  discovered 
Newbury  mines. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

In  the  autumn  of  1810  Mrs.  Moses 
Colman  was  taken  ill  of  a  slow  fever. 
As  she  would  have  no  one  but  Sallie  to 
nurse  her,  I  remained  in  B3rfield  several 
weeks.  During  this  time  the  house- 
hold were  troubled  by  a  series  of  mys- 
terious and  untoward  events.  Mr. 
Colman  missed  a  ten  dollar  bill  from 
his  desk  drawer  in  a  remarkable  man- 
ner, the  hens  quitted  laying,  a  cask  of 
choice  cider  that  had  never  been 
tapped  was  found  empty,  and  Jerry's 


258 


REMESTSCEXCES 


fine  parade  horse  which  was  at  pasture 
on  the  farm,  presented  a  low  and  jaded 
condition.  Jeremiah  Colman  and  Da- 
vid Emer}-  had  been  for  some  time  offi- 
cers in  the  troop.  At  that  time  Jerry 
was  captaju  and  David  first  lieutenant 
of  one  of  the  companies  forming  the 
regiment  of  cavalry.  "What  could 
have  happened  to  Jerry's  horse  !"  His 
father  said  "he  looked  sorn*."  At  this 
juncture,  Charles  Field,  the  colored 
boy  brought  up  in  the  family,  now  a 
youth  of  twenty,  evinced  great  religious 
concern.  His  state  was  such  that  Dr. 
Parish  was  requested  to  visit  him.  The 
keen  witted  clergyman,  after  convers- 
ing with  Charles,  avowed  lack  of  faith 
in  his  professions.  "He  had  seen  his 
mother  in  such  states.  It  was  his  opin- 
ion that  this  show  of  piety  was  to  cover 
some  rascality.  He  had  said  as  much 
to  the  fellow,  and  bade  him  ease  his 
soul  b}-  confession,  and  b}'  making  every 
restitution  possible."  The  next  day  to 
my  surprise,  I  discovered  the  missing 
"bank  note  in  Mrs.  Column's  cap  box. 
It  was  immediately  ascertained  that 
Charles  had  for  weeks  been  riding  the 
parade  horse  to  Newbmyport,  a  series 
of  dances  having  been  held  in  Guinea 
which  he  had  attended.  Having  hid- 
den his  Sunday  suit  in  the  ha}'  mow, 
after  the  family  had  retired  he  stole  out, 
dressing  himself  in  the  barn,  saddled 
and  bridled  the  horse,  which  had  been 
stealthily  brought  up  from  pasture  in 
the  evening,  using  the  military  equip- 
ments, then  dashed  down  to  Guinea  in 
grand  style,  exciting  the  en\y  of  his 
brother  beaux,  and  the  great  admira- 
tion of  the  sable  belles.  The  ten  dollar 
bill  was  taken  to  exhibit  his  grandeur 
and  that  of  the  family.  On  moving  the 
cider  cask,  preparatory  to  its  being  re- 
filled the  straws  with  which  its  contents 


had  been  sucked  from  the  bung  were 
found  with  a  heap  of  egg  shells,  which 
explained  the  former  scarcity  of  eggs. 
Charles  was  brought  to  confess  his  mis- 
deeds, with  many  professions  of  sorrow 
and  promises  of  amendment.  Such  was 
the  affection  felt  for  0116  reared  in  the 
famity  from  infancy,  that  he  found  a 
ready  forgiveness. 

A  short  time  after  my  return  from 
Byiield  I  was  summoned  to  town.  Col. 
Bartlett  had  at  length  succumbed  to  the 
disease  that  had  threatened  for  mam- 
years  ;  he  was  in  a  confirmed  con- 
sumption, confined  to  his  chamber,  and 
most  of  the  time  to  his  bed. 

Four  years  before,  my  aunt,  who  was 
childless,  had  adopted  a  little  girl,  and 
as  she  was  wholly  devoted  to  her  hus- 
band, the  care  of  this  child  and  the  su- 
perintendence of  the  house  devolved 
upon  me.  These  were  sad  but  busy 
days.  Mr.  Benjamin  Hale  was  acting 
stage  agent  for  Col.  Bartlett ;  he  came 
every  morning  for  orders,  and  through 
the  day  there  were  more  or  less  callers 
concerned  for  one  who  was  a  general 
favorite.  During  the  past  year  alarms 
of  fire  had  been  frequent :  it  was  evident 
some  person  of  evil  intent  was  plotting 
mischief.  The  citizens  had  become 
watchful  and  solicitous.  The  stable, 
where  the  next  spring  the  fire  com- 
menced, had  been  set  on  fire  two  or 
three  times,  but  the  flames  had  been  ex- 
tinguished without  an  alarm.  David 
Emery  prevented  one  conflagration  with 
a  bushel  measure  of  water;  he  had  led 
his  horse  to  Mr.  George's  shop,  and 
was  waiting  for  the  men  to  come  from 
dinner  to  shoe  him.  The  street  was 
quiet.  David  tied  his  horse  and  sat 
down  to  wait ;  at  that  instant  he  descried 
smoke  issuing  from  the  window  of  the 
stable  opposite.  Springing  up,  he  caught 


OP   A  NONAGES ATCIAN-. 


259 


a  bushel  measure  that  stood  by  the 
pump,  and  filling  it  ran  to  the  loft 
The  chamber  was  empty  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  corner,  where  a  heap  of  the 
hay  chaff  had  been  scraped  together 
which  was  burning  briskly.  Mr.  Em- 
ery dashed  on  the  water  in  the  measure, 
which  sufficed  to  quench  the  flames. 

In  February  the  incendiary  was  more 
successful.     One  evening  in  that  month, 
Mr.  Gilman  White's  crockery  store  on 
State  street  was  burned.     About  nine 
o'clock  the  bells  gave  the  alarm.     I  ran 
to  the  front  door  to  ascertain  the  loca- 
tion of  the  fire.     As  the  latch  was  lift- 
ed I  was  confronted  by  David  Emery ; 
he  bore  one  child  in  his  arms  and  held 
another  by  the  hand.     "Here,   Sally," 
he  hurriedly  exclaimed,   giving  me  the 
infant,    "these  are  Ann    and  Charles 
Stetson.      Gilman    White's     store    is 
ablaze,   and  Mrs.   Stetson  has  gone  to 
Topsfield.     Prince  has    sent  the  chil- 
dren to  you."     I  took  them  into  the 
sitting-room,  while  Mr.  Emery  hurried 
away.     Little    Charles  did  not  wake ; 
the  girl  brought  Eliza  Bartlett's  cradle, 
at  which  that  young  miss,  wakened  by 
the  hubbub,   made  a  great  ado ;  but  I 
managed  to  la}T  the  infant  down  still 
sleeping.     Having    silenced     Eliza,   I 
placed  Ann   Stetson,  a  quiet,  pleasant 
child,  in  my  bed.     The  .fire  was  con- 
fined to  Mr.  White's  store.     Soon  after 
midnight  Mr.  Stetson  came  and  took 
Charles  home,  but  Ann  remained  till 
her  mother's  return . 

The  third  of  May,  the  first  circus  that 
ever  visited  Newburyport  came  into 
town  ;  an  Italian  troop,  Messrs.  Caye- 
tario  &  Co.  A  board  pavilion  was 
erected  in  an  unoccupied  lot  between 
Pleasant  and  Harris  streets  ;  this  was 
furnished  with  seats  in  the  pit,  which 
surrounded  the  ring  ;  above  was  a  gal- 


lery, with  boxes  comprising  the  dress 
circle.     There  was  a  stand    for  musi- 
cians.    The  exhibitions  were  on  Mon- 
da}-,  Wednesday  and  Friday  afternoons  ; 
the  doors  opened  at  half-past  three  ;  the 
performance    commenced  at   half-past 
four.     Tickets  to  the  boxes  were  one 
dollar  ;  to  the  pit  fifty  cents  ;  children 
under  ten  years  of  age  half  price.    This 
was  a  most  respectable  and  fine  looking 
companj',  their  horses    were   splendid 
animals,   all  the  appurtenances  in  the 
best    style.      The    performance    com- 
menced by  the  "Grand  Military  Man- 
O3uvres  by  Eight  Riders."     As  the  com- 
pany furnished  but  six,  upon  their  ar- 
rival at  the  Wolfe  Tavern  they  applied 
to  Mr.  Stetson  to  fill  the  cortege.     He 
referred  Cayetano  to  Samuel  Shaw  and 
David  Emery,  as  two  of  the  best  mili- 
tary  riders  in  the  place.     These  gentle- 
men hesitated  respecting  joining  such  a 
show,  but  by  the  solicitation  of  friends 
their    scruples   were    overruled.     The 
matter  was  kept  secret ;  .only  a  select 
few  knew 'of  their  intention,  and  the 
uniform  would  prove  a  perfect  disguise.  . 
Col.  Bartlett  was  so  feeble,  I  hesitated 
with  regard  to  accepting   Mr.  Emery's 
invitation  to  the  circus,  but  my  uncle 
insisted  upon  nry  going,    "he  was  curi- 
ous to  hear   about  it,  wished  he  could 
see  Sam  and  David  ride,  he  knew  they 
ould  sit  their  horses  with  the  best  of 
them."     My  plans  came  near  being  re- 
versed, through  the  conversation  of  a 
jand  of  callers  on  the  morning  prior  to 
the  Wednesday  afternoon  performance, 
which  I  had  engaged  to  attend.     Little 
suspecting  that  I  had  any  special  inter- 
st  in  the  play,  these  pious  women  in- 
voked the  wrath  of   Heaven,  and  its 
most  awful  judgments  upon  the  com- 
Dany    and  all  who    should    patronize 
,hem.     "A  mean,  low  set  of  foreigners, 


260 


REMESTSCE^CES 


their  presence  was  a  disgrace  to  the 
town ;  they  wondered  the  selectmen 
should  grant  them  a  permit.  No  one 
of  the  least  respectability  would  think 
of  showing  themselves  in  such  a  place 
as  this  circus."  Abashed,  I  reported 
to  Uncle  Bartlett.  He  declared  the 
talk  all  nonsense,  and  bade  me  go. 
Finding  that  my  Uncle  Peabody  and 
Sophronia  were  going  and  that  most 
of  the  elite  had  purchased  tickets,  I  ven- 
tured to  dress  for  the  occasion.  Mr. 
Emery  escorted  me  to  a  private  en- 
trance on  Harris  street,  where  we  joined 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shaw.  The  gentlemen 
having  conducted  us  to  a  box,  went  to 
don  their  uniform.  We  were  soon 
joined  b}-  General  Peabody  and  his 
daughter,  and  Dr.  Prescott  and  his 
daughters.  Col.  Greenleaf  occupied 
the  next  box.  I  soon  espied  Mr  Mo- 
ses Colman  and  his  son  Jerr}-  in  the  pit, 
and  as  seat  after  seat  and  box  after 
box  filled  with  the  wisdom,  wit,  beauty 
and  fashion  of  the  town  and  vicinity,  I 
leaned  back  in  my  seat,  satisfied  with 
my  compan}T,  and  glad  that  to  please 
my  uncle  and  David  I  had  not  been 
over  scrupulous. 

This  was  prior  to  the  formation  of 
brass  bands.  The  music,  consisted  of 
some  half  dozen  performers  on  the  bu- 
gle, clarionet,  bass-viol  and  violin. 
Various  airs  had  been  played  while  the 
audience  were  gathering.  As  the  mo- 
ment arrived  for  the  performance  to 
commence,  at  a  bugle  call,  in  dashed 
the  eight  horsemen,  in  a  showy  uni- 
form in  single  file  ;  they  rushed  around 
the  ring,  then  followed  a  series  of  splen- 
did feats  of  horsemanship  and  military 
tactics.  I  do  not  think  1  should  have 
known  either  Mr.  Shaw  or  Mr.  Emery 
had  they  not  given  a  little  private  sig- 
nal. They  did  themselves  great  credit, 


rode  better  even  than  the  trained  eques- 
trians. Cayetano  was  highly  delighted, 
and  was  most  profuse  in  his  encomiums 
and  compliments.  The  military  exer- 
cise over,  Master  Tatnal  performed 
several  gymnastic  feats.  He  was  fol- 
lowed by  Master  Dufiee,  a  negro  lad, 
who  drew  down  the  house  by  feats  of 
agilitj',  leaping  over  a  whip  and  hoop. 
Mr.  Codet  signalized  himself  in  feats  of 
horsemanship.  Mr.  Menial,  the  clown, 
amused  the  audience  by  buffoonery  and 
horsemanship.  Mr.  Cayetano  execut- 
ed on  two  horses  the  laughable  farce  of 
the  "Fish  woman,  or  the  Metamorpho- 
sis." With  a  foot  on  each  horse  he  rode 
forward,  habited  as  an  immensely  fat 
fish  woman,  in  a  huge  bonnet  and  un- 
couth garments.  Riding  rapidly  round 
the  ring  he  divested  himself  of  this  and 
several  other  suits,  ending  in  making 
his  final  bow  as  an  elegant  cavalier. 
The  young  African  next  performed  feats 
of  horsemanship  and  vaulting,  danced  a 
hornpipe,  and  other  figures,  ending  by 
dashing'  round  the  ring,  standing  on 
the  tips  of  his  toes.  The  horse,  Oce- 
let,  posted  himself  in  various  attitudes, 
danced  and  took  a  collation  with  the 
clown.  Mr.  Cayetano  performed  the 
Caudian  Peasant,  and  feats  of  horse- 
manship with  hoops,  hat  and  glove,  ter- 
minating by  the  leap  of  the  four  rib- 
bons separated  and  together.  Mr. 
Cayetano  performed  the  pyramid,  young 
Duffee  on  his  shoulders  as  "Flying 
Mercury."  Then  came  the  Trampoleon 
exercise  by  Messrs.  Menial,  Codet,  and 
the  young  African ;  somersets  over 
men's  heads  and  a  leap  over  six  horses. 
The  next  scene  was  the  Pedestal ;  the 
horse  of  knowledge  posted  in  different 
attitudes.  The  performances  conclud- 
ed with  the  Taylor  riding  to  Water- 
ford  upon  the  unequalled  horse  Zebra, 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN". 


261 


by  Mr.  Menial,  the  clown.  This  was  a 
most  laughable  farce,  Zebra  being  a 
Jack  trained  to  the  part.  This  elicited 
a  storni  of  applause,  and  the  play  ended 
with  cheer  after  cheer.  The  circus 
gave  universal  satisfaction,  and  from 
Newbuiyport  they  went  to  Exeter,  in- 
tending to  make  an  Eastern  tour. 


CHAPTER   L. 

"There  is  a  destiny  that  shapes  our  ends, 

Rough  hew  them  as  we  will." 

The  memorable  Friday  evening,  the 
thirty-first  of  May,  1811,  the  sun  set  in 
unclouded  splendor,  gilding  the  church 
spires,  and  gleaming  upon  tree  tops, 
window  panes,  and  the  masts  of  the 
little  fleet  anchored  at  the  wharves  up 
and  down  the  river.  For  the  last  time 
its  rays  illumined  the  ancient  town ; 
when  it  sank  behind  the  western  heights 
it  bade  a  final  adieu  to  many  an  antique 
landmark  and  to  many  a  goodly  heri- 
tage. The  last  lingering  gleam  died 
away  from  the  old  "port,"  which 
henceforth  would  only  be  known  in  tra- 
dition and  song.  For  the  last  time 
busy  feet  trod  those  long  lines  of  lofty 
warehouses  ;  carts  and  drays  rattled  up 
and  down  the  wharves ;  the  evening 
stage  coaches  dashed  up  to  the  Old 
Wolfe  tavern ;  merchant  and  artisan 
turned  the  key,  and  wended  their  way 
homeward  ;  the  tea  urn  steamed  on  the 
luxurious  board  in  stately  mansions, 
and  the  more  frugal  supper  was  served 
in  the  dwellings  of  the  mechanic  and  la- 
borer. Little  did  they  reck  that  ere 
another  day  should  dawn,  each  would 
be  reduced  to  a  perfect  equality,  alike 
homeless  and  penniless.  That  the  old 
town  of  the  primeval  settlers  and  of 


Revolutionar}r  fame  would  have  passed 
into  oblivion,  that  one  period  had  end- 
ed, that  henceforth  a  new  town  was  to 
arise,  a  new  order  of  things  to  be  insti- 
tuted, new  customs  and  business  to  be 
established,  new  men  and  measures  to 
be  represented  ;  but  the  old  town  of 
Newburyport,  with  its  commerce,  its 
prestige  and  aristocratic  splendor  had 
gone  forevermore. 

As  home  duties  claimed  my  presence 
I  returned  to  "Crane  Neck"  the  last 
week  in  May.  The  night  of  the  thirty- 
first,  the  family,  with  the  exception  of 
my  mother  and  myself,  retired  at  nine 
o'clock.  We  were  sitting  by  the  smould- 
ering fire,  sadly  talking  over  my  winter's 
experience,  when  a  knock  came  upon 
the  back  door.  Surprised,  I  rose,  and 
drawing  aside  the  fastening,  opened  it 
upon  William  Thurrell,  who  hastily  ex- 
claimed, "Sallie,  Newburyport  is  on 
fire."  Repeating  his  words  to  mother, 
I  ran  to  the  eastern  end  of  the  house, 
and  throwing  open  the  door,  I  stood 
transfixed.  It  was  then  only  half-past 
nine,  audit  was  so  light  that  at  that  dis- 
tance I  could  have  read  fine  print. 

The  family  and  neighborhood  were 
aroused  ;  the  young  men  saddled  their 
horses  or  harnessed  teams,  and  hurried 
to  town.  The  others  watched  and 
moaned  in  a  helpless  anguish  nearl}*  bor- 
dering on  despair.  The  house  soon  be- 
came thronged.  People  came  from 
miles  back,  to  the  hill.  We  had  a  good 
glass,  and  from  the  range  of  the  Pleas- 
ant street  church  steeple,  which  we  mo- 
mentarily expected  to  see  enveloped  in 
flames, 'saw  that  the  fire  was  still  below 
the  residences  of  Gen.  Peabody  and 
Col.  Bartlett,  but  we  knew  that  much 
of  their  property  must  be  burned,  with 
that  of  other  relatives  and  friends.  Re- 
calling David  Emery's  activity,  courage, 


262 


REMIXISCEXCES 


and  self-forgetfulness ,  I  knew  that  he 
would  rush  into  the  thickest  of  the 
fight  waged  against  the  devouring  ele- 
ment, and  I  could  not  but  feel  anxious 
for  his  safety.  It  was  a  fearful,  a  ter- 
rible night.  If  I  could  have  been  on 
the  spot,  could  haA'e  but  a  helping  hand  ! 
— but  to  be  thus  compelled  to  gaze  in 
inactivity'  was  horrible.  All  night  long 
the  flames  swelled  and  surged,  with  a 
roar  like  that  of  the  distant  sea. 
Towards  morning  came  the  sound  of 
explosions,  when  great  pillars  of  smoke, 
flame  and  sparks,  would  spring  up 
towards  the  sk}T.  By  sunrise  the  fire 
had  become  subdued ;  but  a  dense 
smoke  veiled  all  the  intervening  space, 
and  the  sun  came  up  the  heavens  red 
and  lowery,  its  rays  obscured  \>y  the 
dense  atmosphere. 

Some  of  the  neighbors  came  home  in 
the  morning,  but  my  uncle,  Ben  Little, 
and  my  brother  James  remained  through 
the  day.  It  was  evening  ere  we  learned 
the  full  extent  of  the  great  fire.  This 
conflagration  commenced  soon  after  the 
ringing  of  the  nine  o'clock  bell,  in  the 
unoccupied  stable  in  Mechanics'  Row, 
Inn  street,  in  which  the  former  incen- 
diary attempts  had  been  made. 

It  was  a  pleasant  moonlight  evening, 
and  probably  over  a  hundred  persons 
were  walking  the  streets  in  the  vicinity. 
Suddenly  a  tall  spire  of  flame  shot  up 
into  the  sk}-,  and  in  an  instant  the 
whole  neighborhood  was  aglow.  No 
rain  had  fallen  for  several  weeks ;  a 
brisk  westerly  wind  was  blowing,  which 
threw  the  flames  directly  upon  some  of 
the  principal  stores.  The  alarms  of  fire 
had  of  late  been  so  frequent  that  the 
fire  department  were  unusually  efficient. 
There  were  three  or  four  as  good  hand 
engines  as  could  be  purchased,  worked 
by  willing  and  sturdy  hands,  and  sev- 


eral fire  companies  in  perfect  organiza- 
tion, each  member  of  which  was  sup- 
plied with  two  leathern  buckets,  and  a 
knapsack  containing  two  canvas  bags, 
of  the  capacity  of  four  bushels  each,  for 
the  removal  of  clothing  and  bedding. 
The  buckets  were  painted  green,  with 
the  owner's  name  inscribed  within  a  gilt 
scroll  on  the  side  ;  the  name  was  also 
stamped  upon  the  knapsack  and  bags. 
The  rules  of  these  societies  required  the 
apparatus  to  be  hung  in  the  front  entry 
of  the  owner's  residence,  and  once  a 
month  members  were  detailed  to  exam- 
ine into  their  efficiency. 

In  addition  wardens  were  appointed, 
who,  armed  with  long  poles,  ordered 
and  directed  at  afire.  There  were  also 
ladders  placed  at  frequent  intervals 
about  the  town,  hung  upon  a  fence  or 
building,  protected  from  the  weather  by 
a  board  nailed  slant-wise  above  it.  The 
bells  rang  the  alarm,  but  before  a  stream 
of  water  could  be  brought  the  stable  was 
enveloped  in  flames,  which  in  an  incred- 
ibly short  time  consumed  the  two  un- 
improved stables,  the  tavern  and  gro- 
cery of  Joseph  Jacknian,  Mr.  Nathan 
Follansbee's  grocery  store,  and  a  dwell- 
ing house  belonging  to  Mr.  Matthew 
Perkins  on  Inn  street.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  fire  department  in  full  ranks 
worked  with  the  energy  of  twice  their 
force,  aided  by  every  exertion  of  the 
citizens,  the  flames  could  not  be  sub- 
dued, but  soon  swept  down  to  the  mar- 
ket, thence  to  State  street.  Every  one 
rushed  to  the  rescue  ;  long  lines  were 
formed  to  pass  water ;  the  high  bred 
lady  stood  side  by  side  with  her  ser- 
vants, and  humbler  neighbors  ;  all  dis- 
tinction of  cast,  age  or  sex,  was  lost  in 
this  vortex  of  misery  and  terror.  As- 
sistance came  from  Newbury,  Ames- 
bury,  Salisbury,  Rowley,  Ipswich,  Dan- 


OF    A  NONAGENARIAN. 


263 


vers,  Beverly,  Haverhill,  Topsfield, 
Bradford,  and  towns  across  the  river  in 
New  Hampshire .  Engines  were  brought 
from  Salem  and  some  other  towns,  but 
the  flames  spread  in  such  various  direc- 
tions as  to  baffle  all  exertions'to  subdue 
it.  In  a  few  hours  it  prostrated  every 
building  on  the  north  side  of  State 
street,  from  Pleasant  street  to  Market 
square,  and  on  the  opposite  side  from 
Essex  street.  It  proceeded  into  Essex 
street  on  the  northeast  side  to  the  house 
of  Capt.  James  Kettell,  where  it  was 
checked ;  into  Middle  street  as  far  as 
Fair  street,  on  the  northeast  side,  and 
a  few  rods  there  on  the  southwest  side 
into  Liberty,  within  one  house  of  Inde- 
pendent, and  down  Water  street  as  far 
as  Hudson's  wharf,  sweeping  off  every 
building  within  the  circle.  The  whole 
of  Centre  street  was  laid  in  ashes,  and 
the  whole  row  of  buildings  in  Mer- 
chants' Row  on  Ferry  wharf;  all  the 
stores  on  the  wharves  between  the  mar- 
ket and  Marquand's  wharf,  including 
the  latter.  This  cleared  about  sixteen 
and  a  half  acres,  in  the  most  compact 
and  wealthiest  part  of  the  town.  Nearly 
two  hundred  and  fifty  buildings  were 
burnt,  most  of  which  were  stores  and 
dwelling  houses.  Upwards  of  ninety 
families  were  rendered  homeless  ;  near- 
ly every  dry  goods  store  was  burned, 
four  printing  offices — the  whole  num- 
ber, including  the  Herald  office,  the  cus- 
tom house,  the  surveyor's  office,  the 
post  office,  two  insurance  offices — the 
Union  and  Phenix,  the  Baptist  meeting- 
house, four  attorneys'  offices,  four  book 
stores,  the  loss  in  one  of  which  was 
$30,000,  and  also  the  town  library. 

Blunt' s  Building  and  Phenix  Building 
for  a  time  presented  a  barrier  to  the 
destructive  element,  and  hopes  were 
entertained  that  they  would  be  saved, 


but  by  a  sudden  change  in  the  wind  the 
flames  were  carried  directly  upon  these 
immense  piles.  State  street  at  this 
time  presented  a  spectacle  most  terribly 
sublime,  the  flames  meeting  in  an  arch 
across  it.  -The  wind  increased  in 
strength,  and  it  was  seen  that  the  new 
brick  Baptist  meeting-house  on  Liberty 
street  was  doomed.  This  was  full  of 
goods  and  furniture,  deposited  there  as 
a  place  of  undoubted  safet}T  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  fire. 

At  two  o'clock  the  fire  raged  in  every 
direction.  The  authorities  commenced 
to  blow  up  and  tear  down  the  buildings 
in  its  path.  About  four  o'clock  the 
danger  diminished,  and  at  six  the  fire 
had  in  a  great  degree  spent  its  fury. 

The  scene  during  the  night  was  most 
terrible.  The  moon  gradually  became 
obscured  and  at  length  disappeared  in 
the  thick  cloud  of  smoke  which  shroud- 
ed the  atmosphere.  The  glare  of  light 
was  intense,  and  the  heat  that  of  a  sul- 
try summer  noon.  The  streets  were 
thronged  with  those  whose  dwellings 
were  consumed,  conveying  the  remains 
of  their  property  to  places  of  safety. 
Every  kind  of  a  vehicle  was  pressed  into 
this  service,  from  a  hand  barrow  to  a 
stage  coach. 

"The  incessant  crash  of  falling  build- 
ings, the  roaring  of  chimneys  like  dis- 
tant thunder,  the  flames  ascending  in 
curling  volumes  from  a  vast  extent  of 
ruins,  the  air  filled  with  a  shower  of 
fire,  and  the  feathered  throng  fluttering 
over  their  wonted  retreats,  and  drop- 
ping into  the  flames,  the  lowing  of  the 
cows,  and  the  confused  noise  of  exer- 
tion and  distress,  united  to  impress  the 
mind  with  the  most  awful  sensations." 

I  copy  the  description  of  Elder  John 
Peak,  the  pastor  of  the  Baptist  society, 
whose  church  and  dwelling  with  part  of 


•264 


KEMESTSCEXCES 


his  furniture  and  clothing  were  bruned. 
He  writes,  "I  saw  the  roof  of  our  meet- 
ing-house tumbling  in,  leaving  the  brick 
walls  principally  standing.  But  what 
an  awful  sight !  Bright  flames  ascend- 
ing to  a  great  height ;  explosions  of 
powder,  spirits,  etc.  ;  vast  columns  of 
cinders  and  flames  ascending  in  quick 
succession  to  the  clouds  ;  a  dense  smoke 
ascending  from  the  burning  of  tar, 
rosin,  pitch,  etc.,  formed  thick  clouds 
which  spread  over  all  in  awful  majesty. 
The  roaring  of  the  flames,  accompanied 
with  wind,  the  sound  of  the  trumpets 
and  voices  of  the  firemen,  the  crash  of 
buildings,  the  cry  of  the  sufferers  for 
help  to  secure  their  goods,  and  the  in- 
creasing progress  of  the  conflagration , 
altogether,  was  the  most  appalling  scene 
I  ever  witnessed." 

Much  household  furniture  and  cloth- 
ing was  burned  that  might  have  been 
saved  at  the  commencement  of  the  fire, 
had  this  not  have  been  at  such  a  dis- 
tance that  many  whose  houses  were  de- 
stroyed never  suspected  danger  till  too 
late  ;  so  swift  was  the  destruction,  and 
so  meagre  the  means  of  transportation, 
that  loss  was  unavoidable. 

On  Market  square,  Mr.  Edward 
Rand's  store  was  burned,  but  his  house 
was  saved.  Perkins  &  Dean  had  two 
stores,  one  a  fire-proof  building,  which 
was  principally  preserved  ;  the  remain- 
der of  the  upper  side  of  the  square  was 
swept  clean.  Mr.  Abner  Wood  and 
Maj.  Joshua  Greenleaf  lost  two  large 
ship  chandlery  stores,  and  three  brick 
stores  on  "Water  street.  Maj.  Green- 
leaf's  dwelling  house,  barn,  smithy,  etc. , 
on  Libert}'  street,  were  also  consumed. 
On  Ferry  wharf  was  a  block  of  lofty 
buildings  called  Merchants'  Row  ;  these 
were  occupied  by  John  Wood  and  oth- 
ers, warehouses  ;  Samuel  Brown,  ship 


chandlery  ;  A.  &  E.  Wheelright,  three 
stores,  groceries,  iron,  etc ;  J acob  Stone, 
groceries  ;  Zebedee  Cook,  groceries ; 
Robert  Dodge,  flour :  Joseph  Stanwood, 
jr.,  sail  loft ;  Thomas  Pritchard,  rigging 
loft. 

On  Boardman's  wharf,  Offin  Board- 
man  lost  six  stores  and  warehouses  ; 
these  were  occupied  by  Amos  Toppan, 
Benjamin  G.  Boardman  and  John  Ord- 
ione.  At  this  wharf  a  schooner  was 
burned  to  the  water's  edge. 

On  Atwood's  wharf,  Margaret  At- 
wood  owned  three  warehouses ;  these 
were  occupied  by  John  Wood  and  B. 
G. .  Sweetser. 

On  Carter's  wharf,W.  Boardman  lost 
one  warehouse,  Enoch  C.  Toppan  a 
shop,  block  maker,  Nathaniel  Carter  a 
house  and  barn. 

On  Marquand's  wharf,  Joseph  Mar- 
quand  had  six  warehouses,  a  rigging 
loft,  counting-room,  etc.  On  Water 
street,  at  the  head  of  the  wharf,  two 
dwelling  houses  and  three  stores  ;  all  of 
these  were  burned,  including  his  ele- 
gant residence,  one  of  the  splendid 
mansions  of  the  town.  At  this  wharf 
the  brig  Washington  lost  its  mainmast, 
rigging,  etc. 

On  O'Brien's  wharf,  Capt.  Joseph 
O'Brien  lost  one  store,  and  his  dwelling 
house  at  the  head  of  the  wharf,  with 
another  store  on  Water  street. 

On  Jackson's  wharf,  Mr.  Abraham 
Jackson  lost  two  warehouses,  three 
stores,  and  a  house  on  Water  street. 

On  Jewett's  wharf,  Mr.  Jonathan 
Gage  lost  one  warehouse.  The  south 
side  of  Cornhill,  from  Charter  to  Essex 
street,  comprising  the  Xewburyport 
bank  and  the  Peabody  building,  with 
the  dry  goods  stores  of  James  Caldwell, 
S.  Davis.  David  Peabody  &  Co.,  and 
Prescott  Spaulding,  were  not  burned  ; 


OF   A 


265 


these  were  the  only  dry  goods  stores  on 
State  street  that  were  saved.  George 
Peabody  at  that  time  was  a  clerk  inthe 
store  of  James  Kimball,  on  Market 
square,  which  was  burned. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

On  the  evening  preceding  the  fire, 
Frank  Somerby,  Ben.  Tappan  and  Da- 
vid Emery  had  been  walking  in  the  mall. 
When  the  nine  o'clock  bell  rung  they 
turned  homeward  ;  they  had  reached  the 
head  of  State  street  when  that  tall  spire 
of  flame  darted  sk3'ward.  Shouting 
"Fire,"  the  trio  ran  down  the  street. 
"Head  for  my  store,"  said  Mr.  Somer- 
03-,  as  Mr.  Emery  turned  into  Charter 
street  to  get  his  bags  and  buckets.  Da- 
vid still  boarded  with  his  brother,  and 
both  belonged  to  the  "AVashington  Fire 
Association."  Tossing  his  watch  and 
pocketbook  into  the  hands  of  Margaret 
Lakeman,  who  resided  inthe  family,  he 
seized  his  fire  apparatus  and  ran  to  Mr. 
Somerby's  store,  from  whence  he  pro- 
ceeded to  Wolfe  Tavern  ;  after  that  had 
been  cleared,  he  assisted  in  the  removal 
of  the  bedding  in  the  rooms  occupied 
by  Mr.  Stetson,  inthe  Phenix building. 
From  that  time  he  worked  through  the 
night,  going  from  house  to  house  as 
they  became  endangered,  assisting  the 
ladies  to  pack  their  valuables — a  task 
in  which  he  was  peculiarty  efficient. 
AVithin  doors  most  of  the  time,  too  busy 
to  look  dr  think,  at  dawn  he  found  him- 
self on  the  farther  confines  of  the  fire  ; 
with  amazement  he  gazed  around — 
could  it  be  daybreak  ?  he  thought  it  not 
later  than  twelve  o'clock ;  could  it  be 
possible  ?  For  the  first  time  he  realized 
the  extent  of  the  terrible  conflagration  ; 


for  the  first  time  thought  of  his  own 
property,  which  characteristically  had 
never  entered  his  mind  in  his  anxiety 
for  others.  Mr.  Colman  was  equally 
oblivious,  in  aiding  the  members  of  his 
fire  company  and  packing  his  household 
goods,  which,  as  the  fire  surged  up 
State  street,  were  put  in  readiness  for 
removal. 

Being  so  near  the  river,  the  shambles, 
through  the  exertion  of  Capt.  Israel 
Young,  were  saved ;  but  a  stable  on 
Market  square,  owned  by  Dr.  Smith  of 
Mt.  Rural,  which  Mr.  Emery  occupied, 
was  burned ;  his  loss  however,  was 
small,  as  his  wagon  was  at  the  slaugh- 
ter house  on  the  turnpike,  and  his  horse 
at  pasture  there. 

A  year  previous,  through  commer- 
cial disaster  and  the  dullness  in  trade 
engendered  by  the  embargo,  Gen.  Pea- 
body  had  been  obliged  to  suspend  busi- 
ness ;  his  affairs  were  soon  satisfacto- 
rily adjusted,  and  he  commenced  the 
erection  of  a  new  brick  store  on  Market 
square  ;  this  building  was  just  complet- 
ed, and  a  fine  stock  of  neW  goods  had 
been  put  in  that  last  week  in  May,  in  the 
expectation  of  opening  to  the  public  on 
the  first  of  June. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  31st  of  May, 
Sophronia  Peabody  and  her  cousin  Da- 
vid had  taken  tea  at  Deacon  Osgood's, 
in  West  Newbury ;  they  were  on  the 
summit  of  Pipestave  Hill,  on  their  way 
home,  when  that  spire  of  fire  shot  into 
the  sky.  Mr.  Peabody  put  his  horse  to 
a  run ;  in  breathless  suspense  they 
dashed  to  town,  in  dismay  and  terror 
watching  the  swift  progress  of  the 
flames.  As  the  couple  drove  into  the 
yard  of  the  State  street  mansion,  David 
threw  the  reins  to  a  boy  who  came  to 
stable  the  horse,  while  he  and  Sophro- 
nia hastened  to  the  store.  Miss  Pea- 
34 


266 


REMINISCENCES 


body  secured  some  rich  lace,  and  a  few 
other  light  but  valuable  articles,  which 
she  took  home  ;  these  were  the  only 
goods  in  the  whole  of  that  large,  new 
stock  which  escaped  the  flames  :  the  rest 
unfortunately  were  taken  to  the  Baptist 
meetinghouse,  which  later  in  the  night 
was  consumed  with  its  contents.  In 
addition,  the  General  lost  three  other 
stores  on  Market  square,  and  three  on 
State  street,  the  whole  of  "Peabody's 
Corner,"  and  two  on  the  opposite  side 
of  State  street,  which  were  owned  in 
company  with  Mr.  David  Wood  ;  one 
of  these  was  occupied  by  Jonathan 
Woodman,  jr..  silversmith;  the  other 
was  Newman's  barber's  shop.  * 

By  the  change  in  the  wind  that  took 
the  Phenix  and  Blunt  buildings,  the  up- 
per part  of  State  street  became  endan- 
gered ;  for  a  time  fears  were  entertained 
respecting  my  uncle's  elegant  residence. 
Water  was  carried  to  the  roof,  the  plate 
and  much  of  the  clothing  was  packed  ; 
but  another  shift  of  the  wind  averted  all 
danger. 

The  day  after  the  fire  Col.  Bartlett 
was  borne  on  a  bed  to  the  residence  of 
his  brother-in-law,  Gen.  Peabody,  and 
Mr.  Stetson  took  Col.  Bartlett's  house 
for  a  hotel.  The  brick  addition  was 
built,  and  this  continued  to  be  the  loca- 
tion of  the  '"Eastern  Stage  House"  for 
about  two  years.  The  Tuesday  suc- 
ceeding the  fire  I  went  to  town  ;  I  found 
Col.  Bartlett  much  more  comfortable 
and  cheerful  than  I  had  dared  to  hope  ; 
his  good  judgment  and  business  tact 
were  never  more  conspicuous  than  in  a 
short  consultation  held  with  Gen.  Pea- 
body  while  I  was  in  his  room.  The 
General,  with  reason,  appeared  nearly 
crushed.  Seeing  that  her  father  hjul 
become  somewhat  inspirited  by  his  rel- 
atives' firmness,  Sophronia  proposed 


that  we  should  go  out  to  view  the  ruins. 
Entering  Market  square  from  State 
street,  we  paused  a  moment  on  the  site 
of  that  new  store  which  had  been  the 
goal  of  so  much  promise,  then  proceed- 
ed down  Water  street,  taking  a  circuit 
of  the  whole  area.  In  man}*  places 
heaps  of  rubbish  were  smouldering  in 
the  cellars.  It  was  indescribably  sad  to 
see  the  large  space  covered  with  charred 
debris  and  half-fallen  chimneys  ;  those 
belonging  to  dwelling  houses  were  most- 
ly standing  to  above  the  ovens.  The 
sight  of  these  domestic  appurtenances 
brought  such  a  vivid  picture  of  house- 
hold desolation  that  I  turned  hastily 
away  and  left  the  scene. 

As  many  strangers  were  in  town, 
drawn  thither  b}*  the  double  motive  of 
viewing  the  ruins  and  doing  spring 
shopping,  the  diy  goods  stores  in  the 
I-Vabody  building  presented  quite  a 
lively  aspect.  At  David  Peabody's 
store  we  met  his  fiancee,  Miss  Sally 
C  aid  well,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  William 
Caldwell.  On  passing  Dr.  Andrews' 
residence  Miss  Margaret  came  to  the 
door  ;  she  was  followed  by  her  little  sis- 
ter Hannah,  carefully  holding  a  basket 
and  box,  in  which  were  packed  her 
dolls,  playthings  and  picture  books. 
Mrs.  Andrews  had  kept  her  younger 
children  asleep  during  the  whole  of  the 
night  of  the  fire  ;  this  gave  Miss  Ilan- 
n ah  great  offence;  "her  things  might 
have  been  all  burned  up  ;"  thencefor- 
ward, through  the  summer,  they  were 
kept  in  readiness  for  a  removal  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  There  is  but  one  step 
from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous, 
in  a  113*  ludicrous  incidents  occurred  at 
the  fire.  Little  Eliza  Bartlett,  awak- 
ened by  the, noise  and  glare,  clamorous- 
ly demanded  her  best  wrought  muslin 
dress,  thinking  that  it  was  some  grand 


OP   A 


267 


•gala  illumination  ;  and  a  lad}T  carefully 
convej^ed  what  she  supposed  to  be 
choice  plate,  a  long  distance,  finding  to 
her  disma}^  upon  arriving  at  her  des- 
tination, that  her  burthen  consisted  of 
two  flatirous. 

Tea  was  announced  upon  our  return  ; 
I  had  not  intended  to  stop,  but  my 
aunts  insisted  upon  this.  Their  equa- 
nimity and  heroism  excited  both  admira- 
tion and  wonder ;  their  nobleness  of 
character  was  fully  displayed  in  this 
time  of  trial ;  without  neglect  or  confu- 
sion every  duty  was  performed  in  the 
sick  room  and  throughout  the  house- 
hold. A  stranger  would  never  have 
imagined  that  such  a  change  in  the  do- 
mestic arrangements  had  occurred  in 
such  a  brief  space  of  time. 

From  the  purchase  of  his  house  Col. 
Bartlett  had  rented  the  lower  half ;  at 
the  time  of  the  fire  it  was  occupied  by 
Mrs.  Prout  and  Miss  Nabby,  the  maid- 
en sister  of  the  late  Mr.  Prout.  As 
Mr.  Stetson  needed  the  whole  house, 
these  ladies,  with  their  young  serving- 
maid,  Ann  Mason,  had  also  become 
boarders  in  Gen.  Peabody's  family. 
On  my  account  the  meal  had  been 
served  early  ;  the  gentlemen  were  not 
present,  but  the  circle  of  ladies  did  their 
best  to  sustain  a  cheerful  conversation, 
which  was  aided  by  the  prattle  of  the 
children.  I  could  scarcely  swallow ; 
and  it  was  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  I 
turned  my  horse's  head  homeward. 
Wishing  to  relieve  my  Aunt  Bartlett  of 
all  unnecessary  care  I  took  her  little 
adopted  girl  with  me.  General  Pea- 
bod}-'s  second  daughter,  Adeline,  a 
most  lovely  child,  had  been  a  sufferer 
from  hip  disease  for  some  months  ;  she 
came  to  Crane  Neck  soon  after.  1  had 
one  or  both  of  the  little  girls  with  me 
most  of  the  summer. 


On  Monday  morning,  June  3d,  at  9 
o'clock  the  inhabitants^of  Newburyport 
assembled  to  take  into  consideration  the 
state  of  the  sufferers  jby  the  fire,  and  to 
devise  means  for  their  relief.  At  this 
meeting  the  following  persons  were  cho- 
sen a  committee  on  behalf  of  the  town 
to  solicit  that  aid  of  a  benevolent  pub- 
lic which  the  distress  of  a  great  portion 
of  other  citizens  so  forcibly  claimed,  and 
to  adopt  the  necessary  measures  for  af- 
fording immediate  relief  to  the  desti- 
tute, and  to  distribute  among  the  suf- 
ferers at  their  discretion  all  monej-s  or 
other  property  which  might  be  received  : 

Jeremiah  Nelson,  Isaac  Adams, 
Eleazer' Johnson,  Jacob  Stone,  Nicho- 
las Johnson,  jr.,  selectmen;  Joseph 
Dana,  William  Woart,  Isaac  Stone, 
Nicholas  Johnson,  Aaron  Pardee,  Wil- 
liam Bartlet,  Moses  Brown,  William 
Coombs,  John  Pettingell,  Samuel  Coffin, 
Joshua  Carter,  James  Prince,  Michael 
Hodge,  jr.,  Benjamin  Pierce,  William 
llussell,  Stephen  Howard,  Robert  Fos- 
ter, Samuel  Tenney,  John  Stuart,  Sam- 
uel L.  Knapp,  Daniel  A.  White,  Nich- 
olas Pike,  Thomas  M.  Clark,  Joseph 
Williams,  William  Cross. 

The  selectmen  of  the  town  were  au- 
thorized and  appointed  to  receive  all 
moneys  and  other  donations  for  the  use 
of  the  sufferers ;  and  Win.  Bartlett, 
Woart,  Moses  Brown,  Benj.  Pierce, 
T.  M.  Clark,  Nicholas  Johnson,  Joseph 
Williams,  John  Pettingell  and  Isaac 
Adams  were  appointed  to  solicit  sub- 
scriptions, and  receive  donations  from 
the  inhabitants  of  Newburyport.  The 
sufferers  in  need  of  immediate  relief 
were  requested  to  apply  at  the  store  of 
Capt.  William  Russell,  Market  square, 
where  also  conti'ibutions  of  provisions 
were  gratefully  received. 

In  a  town  meeting   held  on   Friday, 


268 


REMIXISCEXCES 


June  7th,  it  was  voted,  "that  in  future 
no  buildings  should  be  erected  within 
the  limits  of  the  town  more  than  ten 
feet  high,  unless  the  same  be  built  of 
brick  or  stone."  From  this  vote  sprang 
the  large  number  of  low  wooden  shops 
called  "ten  footers,"  which  for  a  num- 
ber of  j-ears  disfigured  the  streets. 

The  13th  of  June  was  set  apart  as  a 
day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  heavy  calamity  with  'which 
the  town  had  been  visited.  In  the  fore- 
noon a  sermon  was  delivered  in  Eev. 
Mr.  Dana's  meeting-house  by  Rev.  Mr. 
Miltimore  of  Belleville  ;  in  /the  after- 
noon the  Rev.  Dr.  Buckminister  of 
Portsmouth  preached  at  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Spring's  meeting-house  ;  in  both  instan- 
ces there  were  crowded  audiences. 

By  the  invitation  of  Rev.  John  Giles 
and  his  society,  Elder  John  Peak 
preached  in  the  Harris  street  church  the 
Sunday  succeeding  the  fire.  In  the 
morning  the  Baptist  clergyman  took  his 
text  from  Isaiah  5th,  24th,  "Therefore 
as  the  fire  devoureth  the  stubble,  and 
the  flame  consurneth  the  chaff,  so  their 
root  shall  be  as  rottenness,  and  their 
blossom  shall  go  up  as  dust :  because 
they  have  cast  away  the  law  of  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  and  despised  the  word 
of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel."  The  af- 
ternoon sermon  had  for  its  object 
"Comfort  to  the  afflicted  who  put  their 
trust  in  the  Lord." 

The  following  Sabbath  the  Baptist 
societ}'  occupied  the  court  house,  in 
which  they  worshipped  until  the  erec- 
tion of  the  new  church.  This  society 
was  peculiarly  bereaved  by  the  fire. 
In  addition  to  the  loss  of  their  meet- 
ing house,  eleven  of  their  principal  mem- 
bers were  amongst  the  greatest  suffer- 
ers. Capt.  Joseph  O'Brien,  who  had 
been  one  of  their  most  prominent  ben- 


efactors, lost  $30,000.  At  a  society 
meeting  June  llth,  it  was  voted  to  ap- 
point the  Rev.  John  Peak  an  agent,  to 
solicit  aid  towards  the  erection  of  a  new 
house  of  worship.  The  clergyman 
made  a  tour  as  far  south  as  Philadel- 
phia and  Baltimore,  visiting  most  of 
the  Baptist  societies  on  his  route.  Af- 
ter his  return  he  went  as  far  east  as 
Hallowell.  This'mission  was  eminent- 
ly successful,  and  steps  were  immedi- 
ately taken  to  procure  the  land  for  a 
new  meeting-house ;  a  committee  of 
three  was  appointed  to  circulate  sub- 
scription papers  at  the  north,  south  and 
central  parts  of  the  town.  That  for  the 
centre  received  no  subscribers  ;  at  the 
south  end  one  individual  subscribed  fif- 
teen dollars  ;  at  the  north  end  five  hun- 
dred dollars  were  subscribed.  Conse- 
quently it  .was  decided  to  place  the  new 
meeting-house  on  Congress  street.  A 
plan  for  a  building  fifty  feet  by  fort}*- 
two,  with  gallery,  was  approved,  and 
the  work  commenced  in  April,  1812. 
The  site  of  the  old  meeting-house,  with 
the  basement,  bricks  etc.,  were  sold  for 
the  benefit  of  the  original  proprietors. 
After  the  new  house  had  been  begun, 
Dr.  Bolles'  society,  of  Salem,  present- 
ed a  subscription  amounting  to$440.17. 
This  church  was  completed  the  last  of 
July,  and  with  the  land  cost  less  than 
than  84000.  "The  house  was  dedicat- 
ed without  parade,  with  fervent  suppli- 
cations for  the  divine  blessing  on  the 
church,  congregation,  the  word  which 
should  be  dispensed  there,  and  on  their 
kind  benefactors." 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Spring  also  made  a 
tour  for  the  purpose  of  soliciting  funds, 
traveling  as  far  south  as  Virginia.  This 
call  was  met  most  generously  ;  Phila- 
delphia, with  the  aid  given  to  Mr.  Peak, 
contributed  $3000,  and  a  Moravian  so- 


OF   A 


269 


ciety  in  Pennsylvania  added  $60  to  the 
funds  forwarded  from  that  state ;  be- 
sides many  donations  from  distant  parts 
of  the  country,  the  neighboring  cities 
and  towns  were  most  prompt  and  lib- 
eral in  their  contributions  ;  Boston  gave 
$24,315.25  ;  Charlestown  sent  $1,744.- 
L  55.  Of  this  $150  was  presented  by  the 
firemen  to  their  brethren  in  Newbury- 
port ;  Salem  presented  $1000  and  con- 
tributions of  clothing  ;  Portsmouth  and 
all  the  smaller  towns  gave  as  largely  in 
proportion  to  their  means.  Those  of 
our  citizens  who  were  able  showed 
great  liberally  towards  their  unfortu- 
nate fellow  citizens  ;  provisions,  furni- 
ture and  clothing  were  given  in  large 
quantities  from  Newburyport,  New- 
bury,  and  the  other  adjoining  towns ; 
Mr.  William  Bartlett  presented  $3000, 
Mr.  Moses  Brown  $1500,  and  other 
gentlemen  contributed  as  their  means 
permitted  ;  the  Shaker  families  at  Can- 
terbury and  Enfield  sent  five  waa'on 
loads  of  furniture,  bedding,  clothing 
and  food,  which  were  received  with  the 
warmest  thanks. 

The  1st  of  June  th°  circus  of  Messrs. 
Cayetano  &  Meniol  was  in  Portsmouth  ; 
these  gentlemen  wrote  to  Samuel  Shaw 
and  David  Emery  that  if  they  would 
come  over  and  ride  in  the  military  ex- 
ercise, they  would  advertise  a  benefit 
for  the  Newburyport  sufferers.  This 
proposal  was  accepted  with  alacrity, 
and  the  proceeds  of  the  exhibition, 
which  amounted  to  sixty  dollars,  were 
handed  to  the  Newbmypo.rt  Relief  As- 
sociation. Such  a  noble  charity  from 
foreigners  and  strangers  was  duly  ap- 
preciated by  our  townsmen,  and  it  was 
with  genuine  grief  that  some  two  or 
three  years  after,  they  received  the  tid- 
ings of  the  loss  of  the  whole  troop  on 


their  passage  from  New  Orleans  to 
Havana. 

Of  the  money  received,  as  just  a  dis- 
tribution as  possible  was  made.  No 
one  whose  remaining  property  amount- 
ed to  the  value  of  five  thousand  dollars 
received  auy  appropriation.  From  the 
first  few  days  after  the  fire  the  burnt 
area  in  the  vicinity  of  Market  square 
and  State  street  presented  a  most  busy 
aspect ;  the  debris  was  quickly  cleared, 
and  the  foundations  of  most  of  the 
present  buildings  were  laid ;  before 
winter  many  dry  goods  and  grocery 
stores  were  opened,  and  by  the  second 
year  the  town  bore  a  much  handsomer 
appearance  than  before  the  fire  ;  but 
the  war  with  England  and  other  causes 
combined  to  curtail  business,  and  it  was 
years  before  the  traces  of  the  great  fire 
were  wholly  obliterated. 

Col.  Bartlett  lingered  till  November. 
For  many  weeks  he  laid  helpless  as  an 
infant,  and  the  end  came  gently  ;  with- 
out any  painful  struggle,  his  transition 
to  another  world  was  in  perfect  keep- 
ing with  his  calm,  genial  character. 
Earthly  cares  and  duties  finished,  he 
departed,  in  the  hope  of  a  new  and 
blissful  life  in  that  world  "where  there 
is  no  more  death."  His  widow  bowed 
in  submission,  casting  her  burden  upon 
that  Savior  who  alone  could  give  com- 
fort. His  relatives,  friends,  and  the 
whole  community  mourned  the  loss  of 
one,  who  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-eight 
had  been  called  fjjpm  their  midst. 

Col.  Bartlett  was  buried  under  arms, 
and  the  funeral,  which  was  from  Gen. 
Peabody's  residence,  was  largely  at- 
tended. Dr.  Dana  conducted  the  ser- 
vice, then  the  military  formed  in  the 
order  of  escort ;  behind  the  hearse  a 
negro  attendant  led  the  Colonel's  fam- 
ous charger — a  splendid  white  horse  ; 


270 


REMINISCENCES 


from  his  bridle  floated  bands  of  crape  ; 
the  housing  was  of  black ;  across  the 
saddle  depended  the  uniform  boots,  with 
spurs  attached,  and  upon  it  were  laid 
his  sword  and  cap,  with  its  long  white 
plume  ;  next  came  a  long  procession  of 
gentlemen  on  foot,  and  a  long  line  of 
mourners  in  carriages  concluded  the 
cortege,  which  to  the  solemn  beat  of 
the  inuffled  drum  slowly  moved  to  the 
Old  B  my  ing  Hill,  where  dust  was  ren- 
dered to  dust.  A  volley  having  been 
fired  over  the  grave,  the  musicians 
struck  up  a  lively  air,  and  the  remains 
were  left  in  the  full  hope  of  a  glorious 
immortality. 

The  famous  white  horse  became  the 
property  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Hale,  who 
succeeded  Col.  Bartlett  in  the  stage 
agency.  Though  obliged  to  part  with 
her  favorite,  Mrs.  Bartlett,  through  the 
kindness  of  Mr.  Hale,  never  felt  his 
loss,  as  she  had  only  to  name  the  time 
when  a  ride  was  desired,  and  the  horse 
was  immediately  put  at  her  disposal. 

My  preparations  for  marriage  were 
nearly  complete,  but  nothing  definite 
had  been  decided  upon,  when  to' my 
utter  astonishment,  one  evening  in 
March  David  Emery  came  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  he  had  hired  the  Pills- 
bur}*  place  in  Belleville,  and  had  come 
to  take  me  down  with  him  in  the  morn- 
ing to  inspect  the  premises,  and  assist 
in  making  farther  arrangements.  I  was 
completely  dumbfounded.  '  The  Pills- 
bury  domain  consisted  of  a  farm  of 
sixty  acres,  on  which  was  a  large,  old- 
fashioned  house,  which  for  many  years 
had  been  a  noted  tavern  for  drovers 
and  country  traders.  With  the  most 
perfect  sang  froid  Mr.  Emery  stated 
his  intention  of  immediately  putting  up 
a  large  slaughtering  house,  and  that  he 
had  already  hired  Mr.  James  Carey  to 


assist  in  the  butchering  business.  Mr. 
Carey,  his  wife  and  two  children  were 
to  occupy  a  part  of  the  house.  "I  was 
expected  to  become  the  mistress  of  a 
public  house  on  a  large  farm,  with  an 
extensive  butchering  establishment  at- 
tached !"  "Yes,  and  I  could  doit." 
Efficient  help  had  been  secured — a  girl 
from  Lock's  Hotel,  who  knew  every 
"rope  in  the  ship."  Lock  had  succeed- 
ed Coburn,  who  had  been  appointed 
deputy  sheriff. 

Somewhat  encouraged,  I  began  to 
gather  my  scattered  ideas  and  to  take 
a  more  coherent  view  of  things  ;  but  it 
was  after  a  restless  night  that  I  set 
forth  with  Mr.  Emery  in  the  morning. 
The  place  of  our  destination  had  for- 
merly been  the  homestead  of  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Rawson.  to  whom  at  the  first  set- 
tlement of  the  township  five  hundred 
and  eighty-one  acres  of  land  had  been 
granted,  which  was  termed  Rawson's 
Xewbury  plantation.  Mr.  Rawson  was 
the  first  town  clerk  of  Newbury.  and 
one  of  the  wealthiest  arid  most  influen- 
tial citizens.  Afterwards  he  became 
Secretary  of  the  colony  of  Massachu- 
setts and  moved  to  Dorchester.  The 
unfortunate  marriage  of  his  youngest 
daughter,  Miss  Rebecca  Rawson,  to  an 
Englishman  named  Thomas  Ramsey, 
under  the  assumed  name  and  character 
of  Sir  Thomas  Hale  jr.,  nephew  of  Lord 
Chief  Justice  Hale,  Whittier  has  woven 
into  his  charming  tale  entitled  "Mar- 
garet Smith's  Journal,"  and  this  first 
home  of  1113*  married  life  was  the  scene 
of  that  romance. 

In  1(551  (O.  S)  Mr.  William  Pills- 
Imry  purchased  of  Mr.  Edward  Raw- 
sou  forty  acres  of  land  for  the  sum  of 
one  hundred  pounds.  The  deed  of  this 
purchase  is  still  held  by  the  Pillsbury 
family.  The  present  house  was  built 


Or   A 


271 


in  1700,  b}' Mr.  Daniel  Pillsbury.  Orig- 
inal^ it  consisted  of  the  main  building  ; 
the  several  additions,  which  so  mate- 
rinlly  enhance  its  picturesque  appear- 
ance, have  been  made  as  the  needs  of 
the  occupant  required.  At  this  time 
the  estate  had  passed  through  three 
generations  to  the  heirs  of  Mr.  Joshua 
Pillsbury,  who  a  few  years  previous  hud 
purchased  a  farm  in  Boscawen,  where 
lie  had  recently  died.  Pilesburgh  or 
Pilesborough,  now  Pillslmry,  Essex, 
England,  Arms.  Per  fesse  sable  and 
azure,  on  an  eagle  displayed  argent ; 
three  griffins'  heads,  erased  of  the  sec- 
ond. Crest,  an  Esquire's  helmet- 
Motto,  Labar  ammia  vinrent. 

A  piercing  March  wind  swept  with 
great  force  across  uthe  plains  ;"  I  was 
completely  chilled  before  we  reached 
our  destination.  The  old  tavern  looked 
dreary  and  uninviting.  With  a  sinking 
heart  I  stepped  from  the  sleigh  and  ac- 
companied Mr.  Emery  to  the  door. 
The  premises  were  occupied  by  a  family 
named  Poor.  Mr.  Emery  having  intro- 
duced me  to  Mrs.  Poor,  went  with  Mr. 
Poor  to  the  barn.  My  hostess  led  the 
way  to  the  large  kitchen  next  the  street ; 
the  breakfast  dishes  had  not  been 
cleared,  and  the  room  bore  a  most  un- 
tidy aspect.  A  chair  having  been  dust- 
ed, I  was  requested  to  take  a  seat  at 
the  fire.  Gathering  my  handsome, 
light,  drab  cloth  pelisse  about  me,  I 
ventured  to  do  so.  While  warming  my 
benumbed  feet  the  landlady  never 
ceased  making  apologies  ;  she  had  not 
expected  me  so  early,  she  had  small 
children,  etc.  I  stopped  the  talk  as 
speedily  as  possible  by  rising  to  go  over 
the  house  ;  the  spacious  rooms  were 
ding}7,  dirty,  and  meagerly  furnished  ; 
everything  looked  sombre  and  cheer- 
less ;  I  felt  as  though  the}*  were  peo- 


pled with  all  the  defunct  Rawsons  and 
Pillsbiuys  :  in  fancy,  gliding  before  me, 
I  saw  Miss  Rebecca  Rawson,  whom  the 
scamp  Thomas  Rsmsey  so  shamefully 
married,  then  robbed  and  deserted  in  a 
foreign  land,  and  who  soon  after  met 
with  a  tragical  death,  being  swallowed 
up  by  an  earthquake  in  Port  Royal. 
Mr.  Emery's  brisk  step  and  quick,  busi- 
ness tone  dispelled  these  illusions.  Al- 
terations and  repairs  were  discussed ; 
whitewash,  paint  and  paper  would  work 
wonders.  Quite  inspired,  I  rode  down 
to  my  Uncle  Peabody's. 

Considerable  trade  had  sprung  up  be- 
tween Newburyport  and  Alexandria 
and  Georgetown,  and  several  of  our 
citizens  had  become  residents  of  the 
District.  Gen.  Peabody  had  decided 
to  join  them ;  preparations  were  in 
progress  for  the  families'  removal  to 
Georgetown  early  in  the  summer. 

Mr.  Bartlett  still  boarded  at  her  sis- 
ter's ;  her  future  was  undetermined. 
I  had  long  coveted  the  two  card  tables 
and  some  other  articles  of  furniture  that 
had  stood  in  her  parlor.  Much  to  my 
delight  I  found  that  they  could  be  pur- 
!  ;  Aunt  Peabody  was  glad  to  let 
me  take  some  of  her  surplus  things.  I 
returned  home  that  night  well  satisfied  ; 
order  was  beginning  to  be  evolved  from 
the  chaos  of  my  brain,  and  courage  was 
up. Bringing  for  the  new  career  marked 
out  for  the  coming  j-ears. 

The  wedding  was  on  the  22nd  of 
April.  No  one  was  present  but  the 
family.  Dr.  Parish  performed  the  cer- 
emony. I  wore  a  white  India  muslin, 
the  skirt  edged  by  an  ornamental  bor- 
der wrought  in  colored  worsted  ;  bands 
of  similar  embroidery  finished  the  neck 
and  short  sleeves,  with  a  girdle  to 
match.  My  walking  dress  was  a  short 
pelisse  of  light  drab  silk,  trimmed  with 


272 


REMINISCENCES 


black  lace ;  the  bonnet  matched  the 
pelisse,  trimmed  with  bias  folds  of  the 
silk  bound  with  white  satin,  and  white 
satin  strings.  The  hair  in  full  curls 
upon  the  temples,  formed  a  sufficient 
face  trimming.  Mr.  Emery  had  a  blue 
coat  with  brass  buttons ;  drab  pants, 
white  vest,  a  drab  overcoat,  and  a  very 
stylish  black  beaver ;  we  both  wore 
white  kids. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carey  with  their  two 
eldest  children,  Sophronia  and  Hannah, 
were  already  settled  in  their  rooms  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  house.  On  my 
arrival  I  found  myself  not  only  the  land- 
lady of  a  public  house,  but  the  mistress 
of  a  family  numbering  seven  persons  ; 
besides  Betsey  Downing,  the  maid  ser- 
vant, there  were  three  hired  men,  Dan- 
iel Smith,  Aaron  Palmer,  John  Webs- 
ter, and  a  boy  of  fourteen  named  Guy 
Carlton  Mackie.  This  lad  had  been 
cast  a  waif  upon  the  world  ;  his  expe- 
rience had  been  both  varied  and  roman- 
tic ;  his  last  feat  had  been  to  escape 
from  a  British  man-of-war,  where  he 
had  been  brutally  treated,  as  his  scarred 
back  bore  witness.  Mr.  Justin  Smith 
picked  him  up  in  Boston  and  brought 
him  to  Newburyport  to  tend  in  his  res- 
taurant ;  he  might  as  well  have  em- 
ployed a  monkey.  As  the  lad,  in  com- 
mon with  most  boys  had  taken  a  huge 
liking  to  Mr.  Emery,  Mr.  Smith  im- 
plored him  to  take  him;  "he  could 
manage  him  if  it  was  in  the  power  of 
mortal  to  do  it."  Accordingly  I  was 
received  by  this  hopeful,  cap  in  hand, 
with  the  most  graceful  of  bows.  For 
two  years  he  continued  the  most  faith- 
ful and  devoted  of  servants  ;  my  word 
was  law,  and  he  was  equally  obedient 
to  Mr.  Emery.  Ever  alert,  quick-wit- 
ted, possessing  a  knowledge  of  the 
world  far  beyond  his  years,  he  proved 


a   valuable    addition   to   the   menage. 

The  March  previous  Capt.  Jeremiah 
Colman  and  First  Lieutenant  David 
pjmen*  had  both  received  promotion  ; 
Captain  Colman  became  Major  of  the 
regiment  of  cavalry,  and  Lieut.  Emery 
took  the  command  of  the  company. 
On  the  Monday  following  our  mar- 
riage there  was  another  choice  of  offi- 
cers, when  Jeremiah  Colman  was  chos- 
en Colonel  and  my  husband  Major.* 
Thus,  in  the  period  of  one  month,  Da- 
vid Emery  received  both  a  captain's 
and  major's  commission  in  the  troop, 
besides  assuming  the  responsibility  of 
marriage  and  the  management  of  an  ex- 
tensive business. 

Belleville  presented  at  that  time  the 
same  neat  and  pleasant  appearance  as 
now.  At  the  junction  of  the  main  feriy 
and  bridge  roads,  facing  High  street, 
stood  the  old-fashioned  hay  scales.  The 
first  house  round  "Newton Corner"  was 
that  of  Mr.  William  Wade  ;  next  came 
the  fine  residence  of  Mr.  Robert  Dodge  ; 
below  stood  Varnurn  Howe's  house  and 
hatter's  shop,  the  Gordon  house  and 
blacksmith's  shop,  the  residences  of 
Mr.  Amos  Atkinson,  Col.  Eben  Hale, 
Mr.  Folsom,  Mr.  Russel,  Mr.  Oliver 
Hale  and  Messrs.  Moses  L.  and  Theo- 
dore Atkinson.  Below  came  the  Qua- 
ker meeting-house  and  the  mansion  of 
the  late  Dr.  Edmund  Saw3'er,  then  oc- 
cupied by  his  widow  and  family,  and 
that  of  the  Rev.  James  Mityimore,  the 
Pillsbury  place,  the  Atkins  estate  and 
the  residence  of  Capt.  Reuben  Jones. 
The  house  on  the  corner  of  Toppan's 
Lane  was  owned  by  Mr.  Jonathan  Har- 
ris, whose  wife  was  Anna  Toppan,  a 
daughter  of  the  late  Edward  Toppan. 
Down  the  lane  came  Mr.  Stephen  Top- 
pan's  house  and  the  old  Toppan  home- 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


273 


stead,  then  the  propert}r  of  Mr.  Enoch 
Toppan. 

The  first  house  on  the  lower  side  of 
Pligh  street,  from  the  bridge  road,  was 
that  of  Miss  Eunice  Atkinson,  after- 
wards .Mrs.  Moses  Currier ;  the  next 
belonged  to  Mr.  William  Merrill ;  next 
came  the  residences  of  Mr.  Moses  At- 
kinson, Orlando  Merrill,  Jacob  Littte. 
Stephen  Little,  the  homestead  of  Josiah 
Little  esq.,  Mr.  Thomas  H ale's  house 
and  hatter's  shop  ;  William  Wiggles- 
worth's  house  and  that  of  Mr.  Moses 
Merrill ;  the  next  house  belonged  to 
"Marm  Fowler,"  one  of  the  ancient 
school  dames  ;  below  was  a  small  one- 
stor}'  house,  and  another  of  two  stories, 
the  latter  belonging  to  Dr.  Edmund 
Sawyer's  estate.  On  this  side  of  the 
street  was  Russell's  chaise  manufactory. 
The  schoolhouse  and  meetinghouse 
stood  .together,  above  Moody's  Lane; 
below  was  Samuel  Moody's  house  and 
that  of  Mr.  Thomas  Emery ;  on  the 
upper  corner  of  Tyng  street  stood  the 
house  built  by  Mr.  Thomas  Coker. 

The  morning  after  the  arrival  at  our 
new  home  our  next  neighbor  Parson 
Miltimore  called,  and  in  his  genial  man- 
ner bade  us  welcome.  This  was  the 
commencement  of  a  friendship  that  con- 
tinued to  the  end  of  the  wortlrr  clergy- 
man's life.  Mrs.  Miltimore,  an  invalid, 
visited  but  seldom,  but  the  young  peo- 
ple became  most  pleasant  companions. 
The  three  sons,  Andrew,  James  and 
John  Murray,  and  the  three  daughters, 
Dorothy,  Eliza  and  Maiy,  had  none  of 
them  yet  left  the  paternal  roof. 

The  next  Sunday  we  attended  service 
at  the  Belleville  meetinghouse.  This 
was  the  .first  building,  the  one  burned 
b,y  lightning — a  good-sized  edifice,  with 
galleries,  and  a  tall  and  graceful  spire. 
A  broad  and  two-side  aisle  led  to  the 


pulpit,  which  was  in  the  style  of  the  pe- 
riod ;  a  sounding-board  was  suspended 
above  the  desk,  upon  which  rested  a 
green  velvet  cushion  ;  the  arched  win- 
dow in  the  rear  was  draped  with  a  cur- 
tain of  the  same  color  ;  the  pulpit  cush- 
ion, and  the  seats  of  the  three  j-ellow, 
oval-backed,  wooden  chairs  which  stood 
beneath  it  were  covered  to  match.  A 
mahogan}'  communion  table  occupied 
the  platform  in  front,  and  two  hand- 
some glass  candelabra  were  placed  either 
side  of  the  sacred  desk  ;  there  was  no 
chandelier,  but  the  scones  for  candles 
were  hung  around  the  walls. 

The  society  was  large  and  gf  the 
highest  respectability.  The  Pillsbury 
pew,  which  we  had  hired  with  the  place, 
was  on  the  left  side  of  the  broad  aisle 
from  the  entrance,  and  about  half  way 
to  the  pulpit ;  one  seat,  which  was  cush- 
ioned, was  reserved  for  Grandma'am 
Pillsbury ;  the  rest  of  the  pew,  like 
those  throughout  the  house,  were  un- 
painted  boards  hung  upon  hinges. 
Some  faces  were  strange,  but  many  of 
the  congregation  were  relatives  or  ac- 
quaintances. There  were  the  Little 
families  from  Turkey  Hill  and  Belle- 
ville. Mr.  Nathaniel  Emery,  from  the 
lower  parish  of  Newbury.  The  Top- 
pans,  Atkinsons,  Mr.  Thomas  Hale's, 
and  all  the  families  on  High  street  above 
the  meetinghouse,  and  many  below, 
Mr.  John  Balch's  and  Capt.  John  Rem- 
ick's,  and  most  of  the  other  families 
from  Bellevilleport.  The  choir,  as  was 
then  the  custom,  was  composed  of  vol- 
unteers, all  good  singers,  and  accom- 
panied by  a  bass  viol. 

Gen.  Peabody  had  established  a  store 
for  dry  goods  in  Georgetown,  D.  C.  ;  in 
June  his  wife  and  family  left  to  join 
him.  They  sailed  in  the  brig  Citizen, 
Capt.  Dole,  of  Ring's  Island.  This  was 
35 


274 


REMTNTISCEXCES 


a  regular  packet  plying  between  New- 
buryport  and  the  District  of  Columbia, 
owned  by  Messrs.  Robert,  Allen  and 
Frank  Dodge.  This  firm  was  largely 
engaged  in  the  flour  trade,  and  for  its 
greater  facility  Mr.  Frank  Dodge  had 
recently  become  a  resident  of  George- 
town. This  separation  from  my  aunt 
and  cousins  was  painful  to  the  whole 
family,  but  especially  so  to  me  ;  I  took' 
my  farewell  the  day  prior  to  their  de- 
parture. The  spacious  house  was  emptj* 
and  closed  ;  the  furniture,  trunks  etc., 
were  loading  for  the  vessel.  My  aunt 
and  cousin  Sophronia  maintained  a 
calm,  even  smiling  exterior,  though  I 
well  knew  that  great  heart  sobs  scarcely 
permitted  utterance.  John,  the  oldest 
son,  a  handsome,  noble  j'outh,  coura- 
geously assumed  the  burthen  of  man- 
hood, and  the  younger  children  clus- 
tered about  me,  giving  their  little  mes- 
sages and  last  kisses.  It  was  inexpres- 
sibly sorrowful  to  leave  my  pet,  my 
sweet,  darling  Adeline  ;  the  beautiful 
girl  so  lovely  in  her  suffering,  clung  to 
me  in  an  embrace  that  spoke  volumes  ; 
and  I  could  not  but  feel  that  this  was  a 
final  adieu.  Polly  Smart,  the  faithful 
handmaiden  of  j-ears,  who  adhered  to 
my  aunt  like  Ruth  to  Naomi,  also  came 
to  say  good-bye.  Sad,  sad  was  the 
parting,  and  it  was  through  an  irrepres- 
sible mist  of  tears,  that  from  the  upper 
window  of  the  old  Pillsbury  house  I 
watched  the  Citizen  glide  down  the 
river  and  over  the  bar ;  watched  until 
she  became  a  white  speck  on  the  sk}r, 
then  wholly  disappeared  in  the  distance. 

Aunt  Bartlett  took  the  house  and 
shop  formerly  occupied  by  Mrs.  Searle. 
and  with  the  assistance  of  two  young 
lady  acquaintances  she  set  up  a  fane}' 
goods  and  milliner's  store. 

The  intelligence  of  the  declaration  of 


the  war  with  Great  Britain  was  re- 
ceived in  Newburyport  on  the  fourth  of 
July.  There  had  been  a  celebration, 
oration,  etc.,  Major  Emery  had  been  on 
duty,  and  Col.  Moses  Newell,  of  the 
upper  parish,  who  dined  with  us.  I 
was  apprised  of  the  news  at  the  table. 
There  was  much  conversation,  but  my 
husband  said  little,  and  I  knew  by  his 
grave  taciturnity  that  he  was  troubled. 
At  night,  after  the  house  was  still  he 
came  into  my  private  parlor,  and  sink- 
ing into  the  large  rocking-chair  ex- 
claimed, "Wife,  I  fear  I  am  ruined." 
Whether  it  was  my  father's  democratic 
rearing,  or  a  clearer  insight,  I  cannot 
tell,  but  someway  I  did  not  share  in 
this  despondency,  and  soon  succeeded 
in  chasing  the  gloom  from  his  brow. 


CHAPTER  L1I. 

The  declaration  of  war  caused  much 
anxiety  for  the  safet3'  of  the  Citizen. 
Two  days'  sail  from  Georgetown,  and 
she  was  boarded  by  a  British  frigate. 
At  her  appearance  Capt.  Dole  strove  to 
outsail  her,  but  the  third  shot  over  his 
bows  compelled  him  to  heave  to  and 
answer  the  demands  of  "where  from" 
and  "where  to?"  At  the  third  ques- 
tion "with  what  laden  ?"  a  clerk  of  Gen. 
Peabody's  named  William  Brown,  Tvho 
accompanied  the  family,  caught  the 
speaking  trumpet  from  the  captain's 
hand,  and  shouted,  "A  few  Yankee  no- 
tions, such  as  women,  children  and 
spinning  wheels."  A  boat  was  imme- 
diately lowered,  but  as  the  boarding  offi- 
cer found  that  Mr.  Brown  had  given  a 
correct  invoice,  and  though  the  declara- 
tion of  war  had  passed  the  senate,  its 
ratification  by  the  House  had  not  been 


OF   A 


275 


received,  after  a  short  delay  the  Citizen 
was  permitted  to  proceed  to  her  destina- 
tion, which  was  reached  in  safety,  and 
my  uncle's  family  were  soon  domesti- 
cated in  their  Southern  home. 

In  Federal  New  England  the  war  was 
exceedingly  unpopular,  and  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts  appointed  a  pub- 
lic Fast.  In  every  seaport  there  was 
much  distress.  Labor  was  impeded ; 
the  most  industrious  were  enforced  to 
idleness ;  poverty  took  the  place  of 
plenty  ;  this  was  too  often  followed  by 
despondency,  drunkenness  and  misery. 
Many  a  noble  man  became  a  mere  wreck 
of  humanity,  and  man}T  a  delicately 
bred  lady  descended  into  an  unthrifty, 
slatternly  household  drudge,  while  their 
offspring,  half  clad  and  half  fed,  mixed 
unrestrained  amongst  the  very  dregs  of 
the  population.  "It  is  an  ill  wind  that 
blows  no  one  good."  The  war  which 
ruined  hundreds,  brought,  notwithstand- 
ing my  husband's  forebodings,  great 
prosperity  to  the  tavern  ;  we  could  not 
have  engaged  in  a  more  lucrative  busi- 
ness. British  manufacturers  having 
quantities  of  goods  upon  their  hands, 
ran  cargo  after  cargo  into  their  eastern 
provinces,  thence  they  were  passed 
across  the  border  and  taken  South  by 
ox  teams  ;  as  our  accommodations  were 
excellent,  the  teamsters  made  "Em- 
eiy's  tavern"  their  headquarters.  The 
first  teams  arrived  in  September — five 
carts  loaded  with  a  variety  of  goods, 
consigned  to  Boston^ merchants.  From 
that  time  until  the  winter  of  1815  more 
or  less  came  every  week,  usually  to 
stop  over  night ;  at  sunset  I  have  often 
counted  a  dozen  or  fifteen  drawn  up  by 
the  sidewalk,  opposite  the  long  barn, 
their  motley  coverings  of  patchwork 
quilts,  coverlets  etc.,  presenting  a  g}rp- 
sy-like,  semi-barbarous  appearance. 


Gunpowder  and  other  ammunition  was 
also  transported.     One  night  we  slept 
with  a  large  wagon  loaded  with  powder 
standing  directly  •  opposite  the  house, 
but  as  the  fact  was  not  known  until  after 
its  departure  in  the  morning,   no  fears 
alarmed  the  household  or  neighborhood, 
but  Mr.  Emery  was  careful  that  there 
should  not  be  any  repetition  of  the  risk. 
Commerce  being    entirely    stopped, 
and  the  coasting  trade  greatly  impeded, 
all  imported  goods  commanded  an  ex- 
orbitant price.     Flour  rose  to   fifteen 
and  eighteen  dollars  per  barrel,  brown 
sugar  was  twenty-five  cents  a  pound, 
molasses  a  dollar  fifty  cents  per  gallon. 
Dry  goods,   crockery,   glass  etc.,  were 
equally  dear.     I  paid  a  dollar  a  yard 
for  calico,  a  common-sized  looking-glass 
cost  sixteen  dollars,   common  tea-sets 
were  from  nine  shillings  to  two  dollars. 
My  china  set  was  sixteen  dollars  ;  blue- 
edged  dining  plate  were  a  dollar  per 
dozen,  knives  and  forks  were  from  two 
and  and  a  half  to  three  dollars  per  doz- 
en.    With  the    exception  of  corn    and 
wool,  all  kinds  of  country  produce  was 
cheap.     Good  butter  brought  from  nine- 
pence  to  a  shilling,    and   cheese  from 
eight  to  nine  cents  per  pound  ;  potatoes 
were  twenty-five  cents  per  bushel.     All 
kinds  of  butcher's  meat  was  low.     Ow- 
ing to  the  high  price  of  wool  the  pelts 
alone  paid  the  cost  of  the  live  animal, 
and  a  good  carcass  of  mutton  could  be 
bought  for  fifty  cents.     Cheap  as  this 
was,  owing  to  the  lack  of  work,  many 
had  not  the  money  to  buy  even  a  small 
piece  of  meat.     Mr.  Emery  was  in  the 
habit  of  giving  away  livers,  heads,  and 
the  cheaper  pieces.     Young  lads  out  of 
our  most  respectable  families,  on  half- 
holidays  and  after  school,  were  glad  to 
give  a  helping  hand  at  the  slaughter 
house,   receiving  in  pay  a  liver,  sweet- 


276 


REMINISCENCES 


bread,  or  bones  for  a  soup.  I  have 
often  watched  them  as  they  passed  the 
house  with  their  baskets,  their  faces  ra- 
diant in  the  expectation  of  a  good  din- 
ner on  the  morrow.  Some  of  our  best 
mechanics  were  glad  to  dig  potatoes  on 
shares,  thus  securing  a  supply  for  win- 
ter. Mr.  Emery  having  raised  three  or 
four  hundred  bushels,  this  was  a  mutual 
benefit.  As  the  supply  brought  by  the 
eastern  coasters  was  diminished,  wood 
rose  to  ten  dollars  per  cord.  Most  of 
this  was  rafted  down  the  river,  but  dur- 
ing the  winter  quantities  came  from 
New  Hampshire ;  in  good  sledding  I 
have  seen  a  dozen  loads  in  a  line  pro- 
ceeding down  High  street. 

Federalist  ideas  were  so  prominent 
the  fitting  of  privateers  was  strongly 
opposed ;  but  as  this  was  the  onh-  hope 
for  our  marine,  and  as  the  administra- 
tion had  some  strong  supporters,  dur- 
ing the  summer  a  number  of  vessels 
cleared  from  Newbu^-port,  "bound  on 
a  cruise."  One  of  the  most  active  in 
this  business  was  Capt.  Benjamin 
Pierce,  a  wealth}'  and  influential  citizen, 
largely  interested  in  shipping.  During 
the  war  he  fitted  out  several  armed  ves- 
sels at  his  own  expense  and  tendered 
them  to  the  government.  Capt.  Pierce 
married  Elizabeth  Gerrish,  who  was 
connected  with  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent and  influential  families  of  the  town, 
and  through  a  long  life  she  was  emi- 
nent for  piety,  benevolence  and  patriot- 
ism. Capt.  and  Mrs.  Pierce  had  five 
daughters  and  three  sons — Sarah  Coffin, 
who  married  Thomas  H.  Battell  and 
afterwards  Mr.  James  Oakes  of  Boston  ; 
Elizabeth  Maria,  who  married  Mr.  D. 
C.  Mosele}*,  afterwards,  Hon.  Joel  W. 
White  of  Norwich,  Conn.,  who  was  con- 
sul at  Lions,  France,  for  several  years  ; 
Rebecca  married  Mr.  George  Reed,  a 


prominent  merchant  of  Boston ;  Man- 
became  the  wife  of  our  respected  citi- 
zen. J.  J.  Knapp.  esq.  After  the  fire 
of  1811  Capt.  Pierce  built  the  mansion 
on  High  street,  which  after  his  decease 
came  into  the  possession  of  Mrs. 
Knapp,  where  she  resided  until  her 
death.  This  lady  inherited  the  noble 
traits  of  her  parents,  and  to  an  ad- 
vanced age,  she  was  ever  read}-  to  lis- 
ten to  any  tale  of  suffering,  while  her 
hand  and  purse  were  always  open  to  ex- 
tend relief.  Caroline,  the  youngest 
daughter,  is  unmarried,  and  has  long 
been  a  resident  of  New  York  city.  The 
three  sons,  Benjamin,  Charles  and 
George,  all  died  single. 

One  of  Capt.  Pierce's  vessels,  the 
brig  "Decatur,"  was  commanded  by 
Capt.  William  Nichols.  In  Jury  the 
sound  of  heavy  guns  called  the  popula- 
tion to  the  wharves  and  other  outlooks 
commanding  the  water.  Coming  up  the 
river  was  the  •  'Decatur,"  gay  with  flags 
and  streamers,  followed  b}*  two  English 
prizes,  the  brig  "Elisabeth,"  taken  on 
the  25th  of  July,  and  the  '-Duke  of  Sa- 
voy." whose  captain  was  shot  dead  at 
the  wheel ;  there  was  also  a  French 
schooner,  captured  from  the  French  by 
the  English  and  recaptured  b}r  the  "De- 
catur." A  great  crowd  awaited  the 
landing. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

Upon  hiring  the  Pillsbury  place  Mr. 
Emery  had  put  up  a  bowling  alley. 
This  attracted  the  townspeople,  and  as 
it  was  a  pleasant  walk  to  Belleville,  I 
had  many  callers.  Several  of  the  el- 
derly gentlemen  became  habitually  ac- 
customed to  saunter  up  to  the  tavern  on 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


277 


pleasant  afternoons,  when  they  often 
dropped  into  my  private  parlor  for  a 
chat.  Mr.  John  Trac}-,  paralyzed  and 
feeble,  was  a  frequent  visitor ;  he  was 
usually  accompanied  by  his  friend, 
Mr.  Samuel  A.  Otis.  Mr.  Tracy 
was  fond  of  recalling  the  events  of 
his  earlier  days  ;  his  tales  of  the  Rev- 
olutionary period  were  ver}'  interesting. 
During  the  winter  that  Boston  was  oc- 
cupied by  the  British,  Mr.  Tracy  went 
to  the  city  to  visit  his  ladylove  ;  he  had 
scarcely  arrived,  when  he  learned  that 
Gen.  Gage  had  gained  intelligence  of  a 
vessel  of  his  loaded  with  gunpowder 
which  was  nearly  due,  and  had  placed 
one  of  the  fleet  on  the  watch  for  her. 
Bidding  his  betrothed  a  hasty  adieu,  he 
again  mounted  his  horse  and  retraced 
his  steps  with  all  speed,  finding  to  his 
great  joy  upon  his  entrance  into  New- 
bun  port,  his  vessel  safe  at  the  wharf. 
As  I  have  previously  stated,  Mr. 
Tracy  and  his  brother  Patrick  were 
largely  engaged  in  privateering.  A 
succession  of  ill  luck  had  proved  almost 
ruinous.  At  the  end  of  1777  the  broth- 
ers had  lost  forty-one  ships.  Mr.  Tracy's 
only  hope  was  centered  in  a  letter  of 
marque  of  eight  guns,  of  which  he  had 
received  no  tidings.  Walking  one  day 
with  his  brother,  discussing  the  ways 
and  means  of  obtaining  subsistence  for 
their  families,  a  strange  sail  was  es- 
pied making  for  the  harbor.  Mr.  John 
Tracy  jocosely  exclaimed,  "Perhaps  it 
is  a  prize  for  me ."  Mr.  Patrick  laughed 
a  doubtful  laugh,  but  Mr.  John  imme- 
diately took  a  boat  and  went  down  the 
river.  To  his  great  amazement,  on 
reaching  the  ship  he  found  that  it  was 
really  a  prize  belonging  to  him,  worth 
five  and  twenty  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling. 

As  the  summer  advanced  dry  goods 


qt  every  description  became  excessively 
scarce,  consequent!}-  exceedingly  high 
in  price.  Though  in  most  families 
there  was  more  or  less  spinning  and 
\veaving,  and  the  click  of  knitting 
needles  was  a  familiar  sound,  it  was 
difficult  to  procure  proper  apparel ; 
plainness  in  dress  was  enforced  by  ne- 
cessity. This  state  of  things  engen- 
dered an  illicit  traffic  which  our  people 
as  good  Federalists  were  slow  to  con- 
demn. I  was  awakened  one  night  by 
a  tap  upon  the  window  of  my  bedroom. 
Somewhat  startled,  I  still  forebore  to 
awaken  my  husband,  who  had  retired 
much  fatigued.  Slipping  on  a  wrapper, 
I  raised  the  curtain  and  asked  ""Who  is 
there?"  "A  friend  ;"  was  the  reply, 
"make  no  disturbance,  but  call  the 
Major  ;  I  must  see  him  a  few  moments." 
I  recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  Capt. 
Josiah  Bartlett ;  at  that  time  an  active 
shipmaster.  Mr.  Emer}'  hastily  dressed, 
when  it  was  found  that  Capt.  Bartlett 
had  a  stagecoach  at  the  door,  filled  with 
merchandise,  gloves,  muslins,  laces, 
vestings,  ribbons,  and  other  articles  of 
a  like  description.  These  were  hastily 
placed  in  my  best  bedroom,  from  whence 
they  were  gradually  taken  to  the  stores 
in  town.  Capt.  Bartlett  continued  to 
bring  goods  for  some  time.  We  often 
had  bales  of  valuable  cloth  hidden  in 
the  hay  mow ;  some  were  taken  to 
Crane  Neck  and  stored  away  in  the 
large  back  chamber. 

The  collector  of  the  customs,  Mr. 
Ralph  Cross,  and  Master  Whitmore, 
another  custom  house  official,  were  in 
the  habit  of  walking  up  to  the  tavern  of 
a  pleasant  afternoon  ;  on  one  occasion 
I  entertained  the  two  old  gentlemen  in 
m}-  parlor  while  Mr.  Emery  loaded  a 
team  at  the  barn  with  smuggled  goods 
and  drove  away  to  West  Newbury  with- , 


278 


REMINISCENCES 


out  exciting  the  slightest  suspicion  in 
the  government  officers,  though  the 
whole  household  were  on  the  broad 
grin,  and  I  was  obliged  to  control  my 
risibles  and  give  a  variety  of  private 
signals  to  the  others  to  prevent  an  un- 
seemly outburst  of  merriment. 

Late  in  the  autumn  Mr.  Luther  Wa- 
terman and  Mr.  Joshua  Aubin  received 
notice  that  a  lot  of  linen  awaited  their 
order  at  "Kennebunk  wharves."  How 
were  they  to  get  it  to  Newburyport ! 
"The  Major"  was  everybody's  resource 
in  a  dilemma,  and  no  excuse  would  be 
received;  "he  must  get  that  linen.'' 
Mr.  Emer}*  hesitated  ;  it  was  a  job  he 
did  not  relish.  Besides  having  inherit- 
ed his  father's  consumptive  tempera- 
ment, his  health  was  such  he  could  ill 
bear  over  fatigue  and  exposure,  but 
overcome  by  his  friends'  importunity, 
he  at  length  reluctantly  made  his  prep- 
arations for  the  journe}-.  Wishing  to 
remain  unrecognized,  he  donned  his 
worst  suit  of  clothes,  to  which  was  add- 
ed a  gray  spencef  belonging  to  my 
brother  James,  too  short  in  the  waist 
and  sleeves ;  over  this  was  drawn  an 
old  overcoat,  which  as  it  was  minus 
several  buttons,  was  secured  by  a  red 
surcingle  ;  an  old  siouched  hat  and  a 
pair  of  striped  woollen  mittens  complet- 
ed the  disguise. 

In  the  summer  of  1811,  Mr.  Emery 
had  driven  to  market  the  first  covered 
butcher's  cart.  This  wagon  had  been 
made  to  order,  and  was  A  1  in  every 
respect.  To  this  wagon,  for  the  Kenne- 
bunk  expedition,  were  harnessed  "tan- 
dem," the  Major's  splendid  parade 
horse, 4  'Peacock"  and  our  family  horse, 
"Kate,"  a  beautiful  sorrel  rnare.  I  ex- 
pressed to  my  husband  the  fear  that  the 
contrast  between  his  dress  and  his 
team  might  excite  suspicion.  My  dis- 


quietude became  increased  at  finding 
after  Mr.  Emery's  departure  that  our 
house  dog  "Turk,"  a  handsome  and 
noted  animal,  was  missing.  According 
to  my  husband's  direction,  he  had  been 
shut  into  my  room,  but  "snuffing  the 
battle  afar,"  in  some  unknown  way  he 
obtained  egress,  and  started  ahead, 
keeping  shrewdly  out  of  sight  until  his 
master  had  advanced  too  far  on  the 
road  to  turn  back. 

Mr.  Emery  set  out  early  on  Monday 
morning.  Wednesday  night  the  wel- 
come rumble  of  wheels,  and  his  glad 
tones,  brought  the  whole  family  to 
the  door.  A  large  hogshead  marked 
"Rum,"  filled  the  wagon,  which  was 
driven  to  the  barn  and  unloaded.  Turk, 
quite  tired  out,  sought  his  nook  beside 
my  parlor  fire,  whither  he  was  soon 
followed  b}~  his  master,  who  having  re- 
freshed himself  by  a  change  of  raiment 
and  a  good  supper,  entertained  me  with 
an  account  of  his  adventures. 

The  journey  to  the  "Wharves"  was 
made  in  good  time.  The  goods  were 
stored  in  the  warehouse  of  a  retired  sea 
captain.  This  gentleman  had  been 
largely  engaged  in  the  West  India  trade. 
and  there  were  plent}"  of  rum  casks  at 
hand.  After  some  consultation  it  was 
decided  to  pack  the  linen  in  one  of 
these,  which  was  done.  A  certificate 
must  be  at  hand,  but  as  the  one  belong- 
ing to  this  cask  could  not  be  found, 
another  was  adroitly  altered.  It  was 
late  ere  all  the  arrangements  were  com- 
pleted, and  the  captain  invited  Mr. 
Emeiy  to  pass  the  night  at  his  resi- 
dence, where  he  was  entertained  most 
hospitably.  The  following  morning  the 
cask  was  hoisted  into  the  wagon  ;  there 
were  plenty  to  assist,  several  very  gen- 
tlemanly looking  young  men  lending  a 
hand  with  alacrit}'.  It  was  nearly 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


279 


noon  before  everything  had  been  com- 
pleted. By  mistake  the  lower  road  was 
taken.  Wishing  to  avoid  the  ferry  Jit 
Portsmouth,  Mr.  Emery  inquired  of  a 
young  fellow  he  met  how  it  could  be 
done.  The  gift  of  a  cigar  won  his 
good  offices,  and  he  volunteered  to  lead 
the  way  through  a  cross-road  that 
turned  on  to  the  upper  route.  Night 
closed  in  ;  the  path  led  through  dense 
woods  ;  an  early  snow  that  elsewhere 
had  vanished,  covered  the  ground ; 
here  and  there  were  small  clearings, 
where  a  log  hut  loomed  up  amid  the 
charred  stumps,  its  one  or  two  small 
windows,  radiant  from  the  pine  knot 
within,  and  crowded  with  faces  that  the 
crunch  of  the  wagon  through  the  snow 
had  drawn  thither. 

The  main  route  having  been  gained, 
his  conductor  left  him.  -Having  driven 
till  past  midnight,  he  came  to  a  large 
tavern  ;  after  repeated  knocks  a  boy's 
head .  was  thrust  from  a  window,  who 
shouted,  "'taint  the  teamsters,  Mr. 
Smith,  it's  a  man."  After  further  par- 
ley the  door  was  opened,  and  the  land- 
lord, bearing  a  lantern,  came  out,  ex- 
cusing the  delay  ;  he  was  troubled  with 
teamsters  from  the  back  settlements, 
who  only  came  in  to  warm  themselves 
and  get  a  drink,  and  the  lad  had  been 
directed  not  to  disturb  the  house  by 
their  admittance.  The  horses  were  sta- 
bled and  a  good  supper  provided,  of 
which  Mr.  Emery  partook,  with  Turk, 
who  with  true  canine  sagacity,  fully 
shared  his  master's  responsibility.  The 
meal  over,  the  landlord  lighted  his 
guest  up-stairs.  ' 'There  are  three  oth- 
er gentlemen  in  the  chamber,  but  you 
will  find  an  empty  bed,"  he  said,  as  he 
opened  the  door.  True  ;  there  was  an 
"empt}-  bed,"  but  the  occupants  of  the 
two  others  had  stripped  it  of  every  arti- 


cle of  covering  excepting  the  sheets. 
Making  virtue  of  necessity,  Mr.  Emery 
quietly  slipped  in  alongside  of  the  soli- 
tary sleeper  in  the  second  couch.  It 
was  scarcely  dawn  when  his  light  slum- 
ber was  broken  by  the  rising  of  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  first  bed.  After  they 
had  gone  down  Mr.  Emery  rose  and 
dressed  without  disturbing  his  bedfel- 
low. As  preparations  for  breakfast 
were  in  progress,  he  sat  down  by  the 
bar  room  fire  to  wait  for  a  cup  of  coffee. 
As  he  did  so,  one  of  his  room  mates  said 
to  the  other,  "That  fellow  up-stairs  has 
been  to  Portmouth  and  got  a  custom- 
house commission."  Mr.  Emery  could 
not  repress  a  start ;  there  he  had  been 
snoozing  beside  an  officer  of  the  cus- 
toms, having  taken  his  bed  by  storm. 
After  a  moment's  consideration  he  con- 
cluded it  best  to  order  his  horses  and 
drive  a  few  miles  before  breakfasting. 
Just  as  the  wagon  was  brought  to  the 
door,  the  government  appointee  came 
below.  Eyeing  the  team  with  a  scrutin- 
izing air,  he  bade  Mr.  Emery  "(lood 
morning."  adding  "Fine  horses,  sir; 
a  handsome  dog.  From  the  eastward, 
I  presume  ?" 

The  captain  at  the  '  'Wharves"  had 
given  Mr.  Emery  several  bunches  of 
choice  cigars.  Handing  his  interrogator 
an  Havana,  Mr.  Emenr  took  the  reins. 
The  custom  house  officer  politely  thank- 
ing him,  inquired,  "if  he  had  cigars  to 
sell?"  "Oh!  no;  only  a  few  for  his 
own  use,  and  to  present  to  a  friend," 
Mr.  Emery  returned,  giving  him  a  half- 
dozen,  Bowing  his  thanks,  the  officer 
asked,  '  'Where  that  liquor  was  going?" 
expressing  a  doubt  of  the  reliability  of 
the  cask.  Mr.  Emery  was  on  the  box, 
and  away  ;  too  hurried  to  answer  these 
pertinent  queries.  Nothing  noteworthy 
occurred  until  he  reached  Hampton, 


280 


REMENTSCEXCES 


when  the  weight  of  the  linen  was  so 
great  the  transom  bolt  broke  just  in 
front  of  the  tavern.  Mr.  Emery  went 
clown  between  the  wheels,  but  received 
no  serious  injury.  The  whole  village 
rushed  to  his  assistance,  and' a  black- 
smith soon  repaired  damages.  Mr. 
Emery  was  a  personal  acquaintance  to 
every  one  of  his  assistants,  but  he  could 
not  repress  a  slight  trepidation  during 
his  detention ;  this  was  increased  b}' 
the  good-natured  hostler's  appearance 
with  hammer  and  wedge,  to  drive  the 
hoops  of  the  cask,  fearing  it  might  leak. 

'•We  won't  lose  any  of  the  good 
stuff,  Major."  he  said,  as  he  mounted 
into  the  wagon.  ''Darn  the  old  thing  !" 
he  continued,  "'it's  a  trump,  anyhow. 
If  ever  I  see  sich  a  ricketty  thing  hold 
out  like  that !  Wiry,  thunder  and  tow  ! 
it's  calked  here  with  oakum  !  Firea- 
tion  !  wiry  don't  it  weep  out?  Well,  I 
must  say  it  beats  the  Dutch  !" 

The  bolt  was  in  its  place.  Mr.  Em- 
en'  gladly  drove  forward  and  reached 
home  without  any  farther  adventure. 
The  following  day  the  linen  was  taken 
from  the  cask,  packed  in  boxes  and  car- 
ried into  town. 

That  winter,  Mr.  Enoch  Gerrish  of 
Boscawen.  came  with  a  large  pung  load- 
ed with  calicoes  and  cotton  shawls, 
which  he  had  smuggled  out  of  Canada. 
The  shawls  were  quite  pretty,  having 
white  or  buff  centres  and  high-  colored 
borders :  they  sold  for  four  dollars 
apiece.  I  took  calico  for  a  dress  and 
a  shawl ;  two  other  shawls  were  sold 
in  the  house ;  the  remainder  of  the  j 
goods  were  sh'ly  conveyed  in  the  even- 
ing to  the  store  of  Miss  Dolly  Games. 
This  new  stock  brought  a  rush  of  cus- 
tom to  that  spinster's  establishment, 
which  at  that  time  was  in  the  Dr.  Cof- 
fin house  on  High  street.  Shawls  were  i 


in  great  demand.  The  previous  autumn 
many  ladies  had  knit  or  net  them  from 
woollen  yarn  of  their  own  spinning  and 
coloring.  My  husband's  grandmother. 
Ruth  Little,  net  several,  and  his  cousin, 
Sally  Little,  knit  one  on  large  wooden 
needles  for  me,  which  1  had  colored  at 
Pearson's  Fulling  Mill.  This  shawl 
was  very  pretty,  and  most  comfortable, 
being  both  soft  and  warm. 

Wood  was  so  scarce  and  high,  peat 
came  into  general  use.  Mr.  Emery 
owned  a  peat  meadow,  and  we  burned 
peat  mixed  with  wood  in  all  the  fire- 
places, but  the  bar  room  was  heated 
entirely  from  peat.  Mr.  Emery  con- 
trived for  it  a  grate,  which  rested  upon 
large  iron  fire-dogs.  The  room  was 
low  but  verjT  large,  and  this  peat  when 
in  full  glow,  radiated  so  much  heat  that 
a  seat  was  comfortable  at  the  farthest 
corner  from  the  fire  in  the  coldest 
weather. 

With  the  sleighing  came  country 
teams,  loaded  with  butter,  cheese,  poul- 
try etc.  Sometimes  the  house  was 
crowded.  Many  of  our  Boscawen 
friends  were  accompanied  by  the  ladies 
of  the  family ;  these  were  my  private 
guests,  with  whom  I  went  shopping  and 
visiting.  I  lived  in  such  a  whirl,  self 
was  unheeded.  We  were  doing  well, 
making  money  ;  eveiything  was  bright 
and  lively  ;  only  now  and  then  I  real- 
ized how  fatigued  I  daily  became.  One 
cold  night  a  large  party  drove  to  the 
door  ;  Mr.  Emery  was  absent ;  I  told 
Guy  to  have  a  good  fire  in  the  bar  room. 
The  lad  threw  on  a  bushel  or  so  of 
peat :  this  had  only  commenced  smok- 
ing when  the  men  entered.  "What  in 
the  world  is  this  ?  what  has  the  Major 
here?"  exclaimed  one.  poking  the  turf 
with  his  whip  stock.  ••Well,  I  guess 
we  shall  get  warm  round  this  pile  of 


OF   A  ISTOlSTAGElsrAKrAN'. 


281 


dirt !"  said  a  second  indignantly.  "Con- 
found the  stuff!  this  don't  look  like 
David,"  complained  a  third.  The  sum- 
mons to  supper  was  given  ;  by  the  time 
it  was  over  the  peat  was  thoroughly 
aglow.  Ranging  their  chairs  in  a  cir- 
cle about  the  fire,  the  party  made  them- 
selves comfortable  with  their  tobacco 
pipes.  It  was  not  long  before  one 
chair  was  moved  back,  then  another, 
still  a  third  and  fourth,  when  a  general 
eulogium  was  pronounced  upon  the 
"Major's  durned  stuff." 

Mr.  Emery  kept  a  quiet,  orderly 
house  ;  a  ban  had  been  placed  upon  po- 
litical discussion,  parties  were  at  such 
variance,  so  much  animosity  was  often 
expressed  that  this  was  the  only  safe 
course  ;  but  upon  this  evening,  having 
the  room  to  themselves,  the  gentlemen 
commenced  the  all-absorbing*  topic. 
They  were  pretty  equally  divided  in 
sentiment,  and  being  friends  and  neigh- 
bors, for  a  time  the  discussion  was  car- 
ried on  pleasantly,  in  temperate  terms  ; 
but  the  peat  fire,  temper,  etc.,  bid  fair 
to  bring  on  a  tempest.  My  parlor 
opened  into  the  bar  room  ;  I  had  been 
a  listener  to  the  whole  conversation, 
and  was  just  debating  the  propriety  of 
going  to  the  disputants,  when  Mr. 
James  Corser  of  Boscawen,  who  had 
been  reclining  on  the  bunk  which  Guy 
occupied  nights,  slyly  lifted  the  whip, 
and  applying  the  handle  to  his  lips,  sent 
forth  an  exact  representation  of  a  bugle 
blast.  "The  company  sprang  to  their 
feet  as  one  man  ;  a  general  laugh  en- 
sued, politics  were  forgotten,  while  Cor- 
ser entertained  them  with  a  unique  mim- 
icry of  various  musical  instruments,  and 
other  drolleries,  which  in  these  days 
would  have  given  him  a  fortune  as  a 
public  exhibitor.  Our  peat  fire  greatly 
surprised  and  pleased  a  young  Irish 


peddler,  who  had  brought  a  piece  of  his 
native  bog  in  his  pocket  all  the  way 
from  the  old  country,  to  show  as  a  cu- 
riosity, and  to  look  at  when  homesick, 
never  dreaming  that  there  were  peat 
bogs  in  America. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

Mr.  Carey  had  been  hired  for  a  year ; 
when  this  had  expired  he  went  in  to 
business  for  himself  and  moved  on  to  the 
Boston  turnpike.  Mr.  Charles  Ban- 
croft took  his  place,  and  a  second  wag- 
on was  put  into  the  business  which  was 
driven  by  Mr.  John  Pillion.  Phineas 
Whittier  from  Boscawen  and  Richard 
Garland  from  Gilmanton  were  the  farm 
hands. 

Everything  went  on  as  usual  through 
the  summer.  Little  did  we  foresee  the 
trouble  in  store.  On  the  25th  of  Au- 
gust both  Mr.  Emer}'  and  Mr.  Bancroft 
were  taken  ill  of  fever.  Mr.  Bancroft 
went  to  his  home  in  Amesbury,  where 
after  lingering  eight  weeks  he  died. 
Mr.  Emery  had  a  slow,  intermittent 
fever,  which  ran  forty  days ;  he  was 
very  sick  ;  two  attacks  of  pleurisy  for 
a  time  gave  small  hopes  of  his  recov- 
eiy,  but  after  the  fever  turned  he  began 
to  slowly  rally,  and  though  confined  to 
the  house  through  the  winter,  in  the 
spring,  though  feeble,  he  again  resumed 
business.  During  this  long  illness  hosts 
of  friends  rallied  to  our  assistance  ;  I 
have  ever  cherished  deep  feelings  of 
gratitude  for  the  affection  and  sympathy 
then  shown. 

Mr.  Whittier  attended  Mr.  Bancroft's 
funeral,  at  which  he  took  a  cold, 
which  brought  on  a  severe  typhoid  fe- 
36 


282 


ver.  Meantime  the  house  was  over- 
flowing with  company ;  my  brother 
James  had  come  to  take  charge,  but  I 
was  often  compelled  to  settle  accounts 
and  attend  to  other  business.  I  had 
plenty  of  good  help,  and  Mrs.  Whittier 
came  to  her  son,  still,  for  months  I  was 
not  free  from  anxiety  respecting  the  in- 
valids, neither  eating  nor  sleeping  with 
any  regularity.  "As  th\*  day  is,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be."  Owing  to  a 
kind  Providence,  I  was  sustained 
through  all  these  arduous  duties. 

In  1812  Dr.  Dean  Robinson  became 
a  resident  of  the  lower  parish  in  Xew- 
bur}'.  In  a  short  time  he  acquired 
great  popularity  and  an  extensive  prac- 
tice, not  only  in  Xewbuiy  and  Xew- 
bmrport,  but  in  the  adjacent  towns. 
Handsome,  possessing  a  winning  ad- 
dress, everywhere  his  reception  was 
most  cordial ;  -no  physician  ever  com- 
manded more  universal  love  and  re- 
spect. Previous  to  his  coming  to  Xew- 
buryport  he  had  married  the  widow 
Farnham,  of  Andover.  Dr.  Poorehad 
become  aged  and  very  deaf,  all  com- 
munication with  him  being  held  by  the 
aid  of  an  ear  trumpet ;  but  still  he  con- 
tinued his  daily  rounds,  the  saddle-bags 
strapped  to  the  saddle,  plodding  along 
on  his  staid  old  horse,  the  companion 
of  years. 

One  afternoon  the  eccentric  old  gen- 
tleman rode  up  to  Dr.  Robinson's  door 
and  beckoned  to  Mrs.  Robinson  to  come 
out.  The  lad}-  answered  the  summons, 
when  stooping  down  and  peering  into 
her  face,  her  visitor  exclaimed,  "They 
tell  me  your  husband  is  so  much  hand- 
somer and  younger  that  he  will  get  all 
my  practice  ;  but  you  tell  him  that  if  he 
does  I  can  beat  him  in  one  thing,  I've 
the  handsomest  wife"  Having  deliv- 
ered this  pronunciamento  with  his  usu- 


al nasal  accent,  in  a  tone  of  unquestion- 
able positiveness,  the  Doctor  jerked  up 
his  reins  and  rode  abruptly  away,  leav- 
ing the  astonished  Mrs.  Robinson  stand- 
ing by  the  roadside  in  a  state  of  bewil- 
dered amazement,  from  which  it  took 
some  moments  to  recover.  With  a 
hearty  laugh  the  lady  returned  to  the 
house,  and  her  graphic  description  and 
apt  mimicry  of  the  scene  became  a 
source  of  great  merriment  to  her  hus- 
band and  friends. 

Dr.  Robinson  had  been  chosen  sur- 
geon to  the  regiment ;  in  this  way  Mr. 
Emery  had  made  his  acquaintance. 
Though  Dr.  Xoyes  and  Dr.  Vergenies 
were  called,  he  was  the  attending  pby- 
sician  through  the  illness  of  both  Mr. 
Emery  and  Mr.  Whittier.  His  solici- 
tude and  care  were  unwearied  :  to  my 
husband  and  myself  he  grew  dear  as  a 
brother  ;  a  friendship  was  formed  which 
never  varied  in  the  future,  but  contin- 
ued to  the  end  of  the  Doctor's  long  and 
useful  life. 

In  September  the  news  of  Peny's 
victory  on  Lake  Champlain  brought 
great  rejoicing.  Guns  were  fired,  bells 
rung,  crackers  snapped,  horns  sounded, 
every  demonstration  of  joy  that  noise 
could  express  was  made.  Mr.  Emery 
was  scarcely  convalescent,  and  the  din 
proved  too  much  for  his  weak  nerves. 

After  worship  had  been  discontinued 
at  Queen  Ann's  Chapel,  the  building 
fell  into  decay  ;  the  bell  hung  in  the 
belfry  for  ten  years,  when  one*  stormy 
night  the  steeple  blew  over  and  the  bell 
was  thrown  into  the  road.  Mr.  David 
Whitmore  wheeled  it  into  his  barn, 
where  it  remained  for  some  time.  At 
Mr.  AVhitmore's  request  the  bell  was 
removed  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Josiah 
Little,  till  the  building  of  the  school- 
house  on  High  street,  when  it  was  hung 


OF   A 


283 


in  the  belfry,  where  it  was  used  to  sum- 
mon the  scholars  to  school,  and  on  Sun- 
days the  congregation  to  meeting,  as 
the  tower  of  the  meetinghouse  had  nev- 
er been  furnished  with  a  bell.  The 
boys,  with  their  usual  delight,  in  noise, 
kept  this  bell  in  such  a  constant  jingle 
through  the  day  that  at  length  I  was 
obliged  to  have  the  clangor  stopped. 

In  October,  Mr.  Solomon  Babb  took 
the  place  of  Mr.  Whittier.  Mr.  l>abh 
came  into  the  family  at  a  time  of  pecu- 
liar trial,  but  he  was  found  equal  to 
ever}'  emergency,  and  for  thirteen 
years  he  continued  our  factotum,  both 
out  of  doors  and  within. 

In  December  Daniel  Thurston  Col- 
man,  the  oldest  son  of  Uncle  William 
Colman,  of  Byfield,  supplied  the  place 
of  the  deceased  Mr.  Bancroft.  Mr.' 
Colman  continued  in  the  butchering 
business  for  many  years,  until  failing 
health  compelled  him  to  yield  his  place 
to  his  son/  He  has  recently  deceased, 
having  for  some  time  been  the  only  sur- 
viving member  of  those  then  attending 
the  market,  and  for  many  subsequent 
years. 

In  March,  a  recruiting  band  being  in 
town  drumming  up  recruits  for  the  reg- 
ular army.  Guy  Carlton  Mackie,  follow- 
ing his  native-born  instincts,  ran  away 
from  school,  and  without  giving  us  the 
least  warning,  enlisted  and  marched 
away  without  one  word  of  farewell. 
We  were  heartily  sorrr  for  the  lad,  but 
as  he  was  off  before  we  learned  that  he 
had  left  school,  nothing  could  be  done, 
and  Mr.  James  Carey's  younger  brother 
David  supplied  his  place,  and  took  the 
new  suit  of  clothes  Guy  left,  they  prov- 
ing a  perfect  fit.  Several  years  after 
Guy  ran  in  to  see  us  a  moment,  being 
on  his  way  with  a  detachment  of  sol- 
diers from  one  of  the  eastern  to  a 


southern  port,  and  that  is  the  last  we 
ever  heard  of  him,  though  an  interest 
was  always  cherished  in  his  future  ca- 
reer. 

In  the  summer  of  1814  the  news  of 
Napoleon's  abdication  brought  a  second 
gala  to  the  town.  The  success  of  the 
allies  was  celebrated  by  a  displa)'  of 
flags  upon  the  shipping,  the  ringing  of 
all  the  bells,  excepting  that  of  the  Sec- 
ond Presbyterian  meeting-house — Rev. 
Mr.  Giles,  and  the  firing  of  a  grand 
royal  French  salute  of  twenty-one  guns, 
and  at  sunset  a  New  England  salute  of 
five  guns.  In  the  evening  the  town 
hall,  observatory,  and  other  public 
buildings  were  brilliantly  illuminated, 
and  transparencies  with  appropriate 
mottoes  were  exhibited.  Parson  Giles 
was  too  consistent  in  his  political  opin- 
ions to  permit  his  bell  to  add  its  tones 
to  this  jubilee.  This  course  was  sup- 
ported by  the  Democratic  citizens,  and 
there  were  members  in  the  Federalist 
ranks  who  disapproved  of  the  mani- 
festations, especially  the  New  England 
salute  of  five  guns. 

The  week  after  my  marriage,  the 
three-story  house  nearly  opposite  the 
Pillsbury  place,  was  raised  by  Mr. 
Humphrey  Webster,  who  then  resided 
in  a  similar  house  which  he  had  built 
on  Tyng  street.  The  hard  times  pre- 
venting the  completion  of  this  building, 
it  stood  for  some  time  unfinished. 

In  April,  1813,  on  the  night  before 
Fast,  Miss  Margaret  Lakeman  was 
married  to  Mr.  Joseph  Magowen,  at 
the  residence  of  Col.  Colman.  My  hus- 
band and  I  attended  the  wedding ;  it 
was  between  ten  and  eleven  when  we 
returned.  Nothing  unusual  was  then 
seen  or  heard.  About  midnight  I  was 
awakened  by  the  dogs  ;  Turk  and  anoth- 
er large  dog  at  the  barn  were  barking 


284 


REMINISCENCES 


furiously,  and  a  small  dog  that  shared 
Guy's  bunk  added  his  voice  to  the  con- 
cert. Rising,  I  opened  the  door  into 
the  bar  room,  inquiring,  "What  is  the 
matter?"  Guy,  in  a  sleepy  tone  re- 
plied, ''that  he  had  looked  out,  but  saw 
nothing."  I  returned  to  bed  ;  the  dogs 
became  quiet,  and  I  heard  no  more  un- 
til morning,  when  Bets  Downing' s  out- 
cry roused  the  whole  family.  Burglars 
had  removed  the  putty  from  a  pane  of 
glass,  passed  in  a  hand  and  taken  out 
the  nail  which  fastened  the  window, 
thus  obtaining  entrance  into  the  kitchen 
next  the  shed.  Having  made  a  good 
meal  of  hashed  meat  and  bread,  they 
took  a  large  silver  spoon,  a  couple  of 
overcoats,  two  or  three  pairs  of  boots, 
some  stockings  and  underclothing,  Bet- 
sy's reticule,  containing  her  needle- 
book,  thimble  and  scissors,  a  Bible  and 
a  History  of  Joseph.  The  barking  of 
the  dogs  evidently  hastened  their  de- 
parture, as  two  or  three  pieces  of  nan- 
keen and  some  other  articles  that  had 
been  taken  from  the  drawer  of  a  desk 
in  the  room  were  left  scattered  over  the 
floor.  A  large  wagon  loaded  with  choc- 
olate stood  by  the  barn,  but  the  dogs 
proved  an  effectual  guard,  not  a  cake 
being  taken. 

From  our  house  the  thieves  proceed- 
ed to  that  of  Mr.  Russel,  where  the}" 
stripped  a  lar'ge  clothes-horse  of  the 
week's  ironing.  Mr.  Russel,  a  carriage 
builder,  had  a  large  famil}'.  small  chil- 
dren, and  apprentices.  Most  of  the 
lads  were  minus  clean  clothes  for  Fast ; 
even  tho  infant's  clothing  was  all  taken. 

Robber}-  was  not  common  in  those 
da}'S,  and  this  caused  a  great  stir. 
Notwithstanding  a  general  search,  no 
trace  of  the  miscreants  was  found,  with 
the  exception  of  Guy's  boots,  which 
were  nearly  worthless,  and  the  leaf  from 


the  Bible  upon  which  was  written  Da- 
vid Emery  ;  these  were  picked  up  in  a 
thicket  by  the  roadside  a  short  distance 
beyond  the  Essex  Merrimac  bridge. 
As  two  men  had  been  seen  prowling 
around  the  unfinished  house,  the  neigh- 
borhood became  alarmed,  and  Mr.  Em- 
ery advanced  Mr.  AVebster  five  hundred 
dollars  for  its  completion,  taking  a 
mortgage  on  the  property.  The  house 
was  soon  finished  and  rented  to  Mr. 
Aaron  Stevens. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  city  of 
Lowell  Mr.  Webster  was  amongst  the 
first  mechanics  to  go  thither.  The  first 
money  there  earned  paid  that  mortgage. 
No  stage  had  then  been  put  on  the 
road,  and  Mr.  Webster  walked  the 
whole  distance  from  Lowell  to  bring 
the  money. 

The  spring  of  1813  George  Peabody 
came  to  say  farewell,  having  concluded 
to  join  his  uncle  at  the  South.  This 
was  the  first  step  in  the  ascent  to  his 
future  prominence  and  wealth.  One 
person's  misadventure  sometimes  makes 
another's  fortune.  Had  it  not  been  for 

;  the  great  fire,  and  Gen.  Peabody's  re- 
moval to  the  District  of  Columbia, 
though  doubtless  George  would  have 

!  become  wealthy  and  powerful,  it  is  not 
probable  he  would  have  occupied  the 
place  he  subsequently  filled.  After  a 
business  connection  with  his  uncle  of 
about  two  years,  young  Peabody  en- 
tered the  wholesale  drapery  business 
with  Mr.  Elisha  Riggs.  In  1815  the 
house  was  transferred  from  George- 
town to  Baltimore,  and  in  1822  branch 
houses  were  established  in  New  York 
and  Philadelphia.  In  1830  Mr.  Elisha 
Riggs  having  retired,  Mr.  Samuel 
Riggs  entered  the  firm,  which  under  the 
.style  of  Peabody,  Riggs  &  Co.,  became 
one  of  the  leading  houses  of  the  coun- 


OF   A 


285 


try.  After  several  trips  to  Europe,  in 
1837  Mr.  Peabody  took  up  his  resi- 
dence in  London,  and  commenced  bis 
successful  career  as  banker  and  broker. 

Monday,  the  13th  of  February,  1815, 
news  arrived  that  a  treaty  of  peace  had 
been  made  at  Ghent.  It  was  good 
sleighing.  Col.  Colman  and  my  hus- 
band started  that  morning  for  Bosca- 
wen.  Glancing  from  the  window  I  es- 
pied Edmund  Baker,  a  lad  formerly 
employed  at  Gen.  Peabody's,  running  a 
horse  up  the  street.  As  he  neared  the 
house  he  sprang  up  in  the  stirrups,  and 
swinging  his  hat  above  his  head,  vocif- 
erously shouted,  "peace,  peace."  Dash- 
ing to  the  door,  he  screeched  "Where's 
the  Major?  Peace, peace."  Throwing 
up  his  hat  and  catching  it,  he  began  to 
hurrah,  again  calling  loudly  for  the 
Major.  I  had  scarcely  made  the  excit- 
ed lad  comprehend  that  the  Major  was 
away,  before  I  espied  Zachariah  David- 
son coming  in  a  sleigh  ;  his  horse  was 
at  the  top  of  its  speed,  and  he  was 
shrieking  "peace,  peace,"  at  the  top  of 
his  voice.  Drawing  up  before  the  door, 
he  too  commenced  shouting  for  the 
Major. 

Having  ascertained  that  the  good 
news  was  really  true,  and  informed 
Mr.  Davidson  of  the  Major's  absence, 
"Zach"  drove  on  to  spread  the  glad  tid- 
ings, and  Edmund  returned  to  town, 
"awfully  sorry  that  he  could  not  have 
told  the  Major  first." 

In  a  few  moments  others  arrived ; 
the  house  became  thronged,  and  the 
whole  populace  went  half  crazy  with 
delight.  Tuesday  evening  Col.  Column 
and  my  husband  arrived.  Having 
learned  the  welcome  news  in  Concord, 
the}'  at  once  retraced  the  road  home. 

Belleville  was  counted  Democratic — 
or  Republican,  as  the  party  was  then 


termed — Belleville  port  had  been  es- 
pecially noted  for  Jacobinism.  Belle- 
ville decided  to  celebrate  the  ratifica- 
tion of  peace,  which  was  done  by  the 
President  on  the  seventeenth.  The 
next  Monday  afternoon  an  address  was 
delivered  in  Belleville  meeting-house 
by  young  John  Merrill,  son  of  Mr.  Or- 
lando Merrill.  The  house  was  crowd- 
ed. John  Merrill  was  then  engaged  to 
his  future  wife,  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Rob- 
ert Dodge.  The  Dodge  family  occu- 
pied a  pew  next  to  ours,  and  when  the 
young  man  entered,  habited  in  Parson 
Miltimore's  black  silk  surplice,  which 
had  been  loaned  for  the  occasion,  a 
gown  being  at  that  time  a  fashionable 
garb  for  a  public  speaker,  and  with 
grave  decorun*  accompanied  the  digni- 
fied clergyman  up  the  aisle  and  pulpit 
stairs,  the  three  Dodge  girls  were  con- 
vulsed with  laughter  ;  their  sly  glances 
to  me  so  excited  my  risibles,  that  I  had 
much  ado  to  recover  equanimity,  and  I 
could  see  that  Miss  Elizabeth  was  ex- 
cessively nervous  through  the  exercises. 
There  was  a  pra^ver  by  Parson  Milti- 
more,  an  appropriate  ode  was  sung, 
then  the  young  orator  rose  to  perform 
his  task.  I  could  but  sympathize  with 
the  Dodge  family  in  their  anxiety  for 
his  success,  but  the  young  man  acquit- 
ted himself  admirably.  His  oration 
won  great  applause,  and  from  that 
epoch  the  gentleman  took  his  place 
amongst  our  most  gifted  and  prominent 
citizens.  „ 

In  the  evening  there  was  a  grand  il- 
lumination throughout  the  parish.  The 
old  Pillsbury  house  was  as  brilliant  as 
tallow  candles  could  render  it,  and  the 
ancient  mansion  looked  prettily  pictu- 
resque with  its  lights  twinkling  in  its 
and  many  various  sized  and  shaped 
casements. 


286 


REMIXISCEXCES 


CHAPTER  LV. 

Soon  after  the  declaration  of  peace 
we  had  the  pleasure  of  a  visit  from 
cousin  Sophronia  Peabody  ;  she  came  I 
and  returned  with  Capt.  Dole  in  the 
"Citizen."  Miss  Peabody  had  borne 
the  transplanting  to  Southern  soil  most 
kindly ;  she  had  secured  many  warm 
friends  in  the  District  and  Man-land. 
She  had  much  to  tell  of  a  life  of  which 
we  knew  little,  and  scenes  and  events 
which  have  becqme  historical.  Her 
ideas  had  changed  and  expanded,  and 
her  natural  elegance  of  manner  was  ren- 
dered still  more  conspicuous  by  a  dash 
of  Southern  polish.  We  laughed  heart- 
ily over  an  account  of  the  first  party 
she  attended  in  Washington.  Full  of 
the  New  England  Federalist  notions, 
she  promptly  refused  to  dance  with  a 
most  unexceptionable  partner,  simply 
because  he  was  a  most  prominent  Re- 
publican, being  obliged  in  consequence 
to  pla}-  wallflower  through  the  evening. 
Some  compensation  was  given  by  a 
presentation  to  Madame  Patterson  Bon- 
aparte. 

At  the  time  of  this  lady's  marriage 
General  and  Mrs.  Peabody  were  on  the 
road  to  Philadelphia,  and  the  General 
had  the  honor  during  a  shower  to  es- 
cort the  bride  a  short  distance  under 
his  umbrella.  His  praise  of  her  beauty 
and  elegance  had  rendered  the  lady  an 
object  of  especial  interest  to  us,  and 
Miss  Peabody  greatly  enjoyed  sitting 
beside  her  for  a  half  hour,  while  she 
carried  on  a  lively  conversation  in 
French  with  the  Spanish  minister. 

Though  receiving  every  kindness  that 
could  be  rendered  to  strangers  in  a 
strange  land,  slight  things  often  showed 
even  then  the  latent  fire  which  in  after 
years  was  destined  to  break  forth  in  de- 


vouring flames — the  cavalier  disdain 
for  the  less  refined  but  equally  proud 
puritan.  Edward,  Gen.  Peabody's 
third  son,  a  bright  lad  of  seven  sum- 
mers, having  unintentionally  given  of- 
fence to  one  of  his  schoolmates,  that 
young  urchin  persisted  in  following 
him  round,  shouting  "Yankee  tank, 
Yankee  tank  !"  Edward  bore  this  until 
he  considered  forbearance  no  longer  a 
virtue,  when  he  gave  the  young  South- 
ron such  a  thrashing  that  his  puritan 
descent  was  ever  afterward  fully  re- 
spected. 

The  negroes  were  a  constant  source 
of  novelty  and  amusement.  My  cousin 
related  many  tales  of  their  faithfulness, 
and  many  funny  anecdotes  evincing  the 
peculiarities  of  the  race.  An  extreme- 
ly tidy,  economical  New  England  wom- 
an, my  aunt  was  somewhat  horrified  at 
the  general  thriftlessness  of  both  whites 
and  blacks,  while  she  astonished  the 
neighborhood  by  her  activity  and  ener- 
gy. Having  employed  a  negre-s  to 
scour  the  white,  hard-finished  wall  of 
the  parlor,  she  greatly  excited  that  in- 
dividual's ire  by  compelling  her  to  clean 
the  wall  to  the  ceiling  overhead,  instead 
of  stopping  half  way  as  intended.  The 
woman  in  her  wrath  declared  that 
"anybody  might  see  Missus  Peabod}' 
was  nuffing  but  a  Yankum  woman;  a 
Southern  lady  would  never  have  known 
whether  the  plaster  was  cleaned  or  not." 

During  the  war,  Mrs.  Madison  found 
it  as  difficult  to  procure  articles  of  lux- 
ury us  those  of  less  exalted  station. 
Being  in  a  dilemma  respecting  curtains 
for  the  "Blue  room"  at  the  White 
House,  she  rode  over  to  Georgetown  to 
inspect  Gen.  Peabody's  stock.  He  had* 
a  piece  of  blue  silk  damask,  but  it  was 
only  half  the  requisite  quantity.  What 
could  be  done  ?  An  idea  suggested  it- 


OF   A 


287 


self  to  the  General.  The  furnishing  of 
the  best  parlor  and  chamber  of  his 
State  street  house  had  been  purchased 
in  Italy  by  Capt.  Caleb  Lufkin,  it  hav- 
ing been  ordered  by  a  nobleman  of  that 
country  for  his  palace,  but  for  some 
cause  was  never  used,  but  sold.  The 
upholstery  and  curtains  were  of  a  thick, 
heavy,  watered  silk,  with  broad  satin 
stripes,  and  of  a  most  beautiful  tint  of 
yellow.  Part  of  the  curtains  were  then 
not  in  use,  as  in  that  warm  climate 
white  muslin  was  preferable.  These 
curtains  were  brought  for  Mrs.  Madi- 
son's inspection ;  she  was  delighted, 
and  took  Gen.  Peabody  in  her  carriage 
to  Washington,  to  assist  in  planning 
the  drapery.  It  was  found  that  in  size 
the  golden  curtains  fitted  the  windows 
admirably,  and  mixed  with  the  blue, 
they  gave  the  room  a  charming  effect. 
Thus  the  Newburyport  hanging  re- 
ceived the  distinction  of  gracing  the 
Presidential  mansion.  The  silk  woven 
for  a  European  aristocrat,  thus  decorat- 
ed the  residence  of  the  Democratic 
ch'ief  magistrate  of  these  free  and  inde- 
pendent United  States. 

Miss  Peabody's  description  of  the 
burning  of  the  Capitol  was  exceedingly- 
interesting.  The  approach  of  the  Brit- 
ish had  been  anxiously  watched  by  the 
people  of  the  District,  but  not  a  doubt 
of  the  supremac}*  of  the  American  arms 
was  entertained,  until  the  morning  of 
the  twenty-third  of  August.  Early  on 
that  day  a  rumor  arose  that  the  United 
States  troops  had  been  defeated  at  Blu- 
densburg.  This  report  was  soon  con- 
firmed by  the  appearance  of  the  re- 
treating militia.  Squad  after  squad  of 
^soldiers  passed  in  rapid  flight  during 
the  morning.  The  panic  became  gen- 
eral ;  most  of  the  citizens  packed  their 
valuables  and  started  for  the  country. 


Washington  became  nearly  depopulat- 
ed ;  everything  in  the  form  of  an  ani- 
mal or  vehicle  being  pressed  into  ser- 
vice. Through  the  day  this  miscella- 
neous and  incongruous  procession  had 
passed  Gen.  Peabody's  residence ;  it 
was  nearly  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon ;  the  stream  of  passers  had  great- 
ly diminished  when  the  cry  arose,  "The 
President !  the  President !"  and  a  coach 
dashed  past,  on  the  back  seat  of  which 
sat  Mr.  Madison.  The  weather  was 
excessively  hot  and  the  President  had 
taken  off  his  hat ;  there  was  no  mis- 
take, he  was  recognized  at  a  glance. 

Could  this  be  possible  !  The  family 
gazed  in  speechless  amazement ;  then 
the  brave,  noble- spirited  John  burst 
forth  in  a  torrent  of  indignation.  "Catch 
-Yankees  to  have  allowed  the  President 
to  run  in  this  fashion  !  they  would  have 
died  first,  ever}'  mother's  son  of  them, 
if  they  were  all  Federalists."  Gen. 
Peabod-y  shared  his  son's  excitement. 
His  military  ardor  was  completely 
roused.  "Never  was  a  building  better 
located  for  defence  than  the  Capitol,  if 
the  soldiers,  instead  of  running  away, 
had  spent  the  day  in  intrenching,  some- 
thing might  have  been  done."  The 
General  paced  around  with  the  impa- 
tience of  a  caged  lion.  He  was  urged 
to  remove  his  family  to  the  plantation 
of  a  friend  a  few  miles  back  ,  but  riding 
was  painful  to  Adeline's  lame  hip,  and 
the  others  preferred  to  remain  and 
abide  events.  Towards  night  it  was 
reported  that  the  iron  works,  where 
cannon  and  ammunition  had  been  cast, 
were  on  fire  ;  but  this  was  a  false  ru- 
mor. The  British  troops  without  any 
halt  pressed  forward  directly  into  Wash- 
ington ;  about  eight  in  the  evening  the 
advanced  guard  entered  the  city,  and 
in  about  an  hour  the  kindling  fires 


288 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


showed  that  the  work  of  destruction  had 
commenced.  It  was  a  still,  sultry, 
moonlight  night ;  not  a  breath  swayed 
the  flames  which  rose  up ;  straight, 
mighty  pillars  of  fire,  forming  a  unique 
and  magnificent  spectacle.  Gradually 
they  widened  and  brightened,  till  the 
Capitol,  the  buildings  of  the  several  de- 
partments, and  the  bridge  over  the  Po- 
tomac, were  wrapt  in  one  sheet  of  fire. 
From  the  portico  of  their  house  the 
Peabody  family  watched  the  panorama, 
this  disgraceful  vandalism,  with  feelinge 
that  can  better  be  imagined  than  ds- 
scribed.  At  a  late  hour  the  two  3'ounger 
boys,  Joseph  and  Edward,  were  fairly 
driven  to  bed  ;  at  breakfast  they  were 
not  to  be  found.  Much  startled,  the 
family  were  about  to  institute  a  search, 
when  in  marched  the  two  }*oung  heroes, 
clad  in  their  last  winter's  scarlet  suits, 
which -they  had  donned  for  the  occasion, 
thinking  that  these  clothes  would  "pass 
muster"  amongst  the  British,  their 
hands  and  pockets  full  of  half-burnt 
charts,  rulers,  paper,  knives  etc.,  that 
they  had  picked  up  amongst  the  ruins. 
With  a  grand  air  they  reported  the  no- 
tice they  had  received.  One  officer  had 
patted  Edward's  curl}-  head,  and  in- 
quired "if  he  would  not  like  to  be  a  sol- 
dier ?"  To  which  the  pert  youth  re- 
plied, "that  he  intended  to  be  one, 
when  he  would  whip  the  British  sotind- 
ly  for  thus  dastardly  burning  our  Capi- 
tol." This  speech  was  received  with 
roars  of  laughter  ;  and  one  officer  in  a 
splendid  uniform,  said,  "he  would  give 
a  round  sum  to  own  that  Yankee  boy, 
that  he  was  made  of  the  light  stuff." 

Fears  were  entertained  of  marauders  ; 
but  none  of  the  soldiers  crossed  into 
Georgetown.  During  the  afternoon  an 
accident  spread  great  dismay  through 
the  army.  A  quantity  of  powder  had 


been  hidden  in  a  dry  well,  which  was 
covered  with  plank.  A  party  were 
lounging  over  the  platform  smoking, 
when  a  spark  fell  through  a  crevice  and 
a  terrible  explosion  followed.  Some  of 
the  group  were  killed  and  others  wound- 
ed. This  accidental  occurrence  was  re- 
garded as  a  Yankee  trick,  and  it  spread 
both  consternation  and  horror  through 
the  British  ranks.  The  Yankees  were 
full  of  tricks.  Who  knew  but  that  the 
whole  area  was  undermined  !  Terror 
multiplied  terror,  till  a  panic  took  pos- 
session of  the  troops  and  they  scarcely 
dared  to  move  ;  every  order  was  per- 
formed with  fear  and  caution.  In  the 
evening  this  terror  was  heightened  by  a 
most  terrific  thunder  storm  ;  the  oldest 
inhabitant  could  not  recall  its  equal. 
Glare  succeeded  glare — a  perfect  sheet 
of  lightning,  while  the  thunder  roared, 
rattled,  crashed  and  pealed  ;  rain  min- 
gled with  hail  poured  down  like  a  sec- 
ond flood,  and  the  wind  blew  a  perfect 
tornado.  The  negroes  declared  "the 
Lor  Gor  Ormity  was  taking  up  our  side 
for  sure."  Perhaps  the  British  enter- 
tained the  same  opinion.  The  fleet 
was  driven  from  their  moorings  in  the 
river  and  dashed  against  each  other, 
experiencing  considerable  damage ; 
tents  were  overturned,  horses  broke 
loose,  altogether  it  was  a  fearful  night. 
The  morning  showed  the^eneim'  in  full 
retreat.  Before  sunset  the  rear  guard 
had  marched  forth,  and  in  a  few  hours 
the  last  straggler  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

» 

The  9th  of  September,  1815,  my  first 
child  was  born,  a  girl,  who  lived  but 
twenty -four  hours.  I  remained  feeble 


OF    A   NONAGENARIAN. 


289 


for  a  long  time,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
say  "Thy  will  be  done."  Parson  Milti- 
more  proved  a  precious  friend  at  this 
season,  and  Dr.  Parish  often  called  with 
words  of  comfort  and  cheer. 

When  Mr.  Emery  hired  the  Pillsbury 
farm,  Daniel  Colman  came  to  Newbury- 
port  to  take  the  situation  he  relinquished 
in  the  business  with  Col.  Jeremiah  Col- 
man. That  gentleman  had  recently 
purchased  a  residence  in  Newbury,  on 
the  Boston  turnpike,  whither  he  had  re- 
moved. The  last  of  October  Mr.  Dan- 
iel Colman  was  married  to  Miss  Nancy 
Pike,  the  second  daughter  of  Mr.  Hen- 
ry Pike,  of  Ring's  Island.  The  young 
couple  commenced  housekeeping  in  half 
of  Col.  Jeremiah  Colman's  house,  and 
there  the  wedding  took  place,  a  very 
pleasant  family  gathering.  Dr.  Parish 
performed  the  ceremony.  The  good 
Doctor  often  boasted  of  having  married 
the  three  brothers'  to  three  of  the  hand- 
somest and  best  women  to  be  found. 
A  large  L  was  soon  added  to  the  house, 
giving  accommodation  to  the  two  fami- 
lies ;  but  for  some  months  the  two  sis- 
ters-in-law shared  the  kitchen,  one  hav- 
ing a  fire  in  one  corner  of  the  capacious 
fireplace  and  the  other  in  the  opposite", 
the  brick  oven  Toeing  used  alternately. 
Mrs.  Jeremiah  Colman  was  fond  of  ad- 
verting to  this  period,  always  ending 
her  recital  with  "and  we  never  had  one 
word  of  difference." 

The  next  year,  1816,  was  memorable 
as  "the  cold  summer."  The  1st  of 
June  Mr.  Daniel  Colman  and  wife,  and 
Mr.  Emery  and  myself,  started  on  a 
journey  to  Boscawen.  We  set  out  early 
Monday  morning,  a  raw,  pitiless  da}', 
and  this  weather  continued  through  the 
trip.  *We  wore  winter  clothing,  and 
fires  were  as  acceptable  as  in  January. 
Thursday  was  election  day.  We  went 


into  Concord  in  the  morning  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  inauguration  of  the  Govern- 
or. As  it  seemed  fitting  to  dress  for 
the  august  occasion,  Mrs.  Colman 
donned  a  blue  crape,  and  one  of  those 
smuggled  shawls  that  I  have  previously 
described.  I  w*ore  a  black  crape,  and 
a  black,  worsted  summer  shawl.  Mr. 
Colman  and  Mr.  Emery  escorted  us  to 
the  meeting-house.  The  wind  blew  a 
gale,  with  an  occasional  shower  of 
suowflakes  ;  it  was  so  powerful  that  it 
was  difficult  to  reach  the  church  even 
with  the  gentlemen's  assistance.  Hav- 
ing become  seated  we  strove  to  enjoy 
the  scene  ;  but  in  vain.  Our  teeth  fair- 
ly chattered  in  our  heads,  and  our  feet 
and  hands  were  benumbed.  Mrs.  Col- 
man had  a  troublesome  tooth,  and  that 
began  to  ache  unbearably.  We  were 
truly  thankful  when  the  services  closed. 
But  our  dinner  at  the  hotel,  in  a  large 
cold  hall,  was  fully  as  uncomfortable. 
We  were  only  too  glad  to  order  our 
horses ;  but  the  wind  was  so  powerful 
that  in  passing  over  Concord  bridge  I 
thought  the  chaise  must  be  overturned  ; 
even  Mr.  Emery,  who  never  feared  any- 
thing, was  a  little  discomposed.  The 
night  was  passed  at  a  hotel  on  the 
Chester  turnpike,  where  in  company 
with  other  travelers,  we  shivered  round 
a  rousing  fire,  complaining  of  the  cold 
room. 

There  was  frost  every  month  during 
the  -  year ;  but  little  corn  ripened  that 
season.  As  the  Pillsbury  place  was 
high,  warm  land,  we  had  a  good  crop. 
It  was  the  same  at  Crane  Neck ;  my 
father  raised  the  usual  quantity  ;  but  on 
man}'  farms  not  a  kernel  ripened.  This 
produced  great  distress.  In  the  follow- 
ing spring  seed  corn  shelled  brought 
three  dollars  per  bushel. 

On  the  1st  day  of  April  in  this  year, 
37 


290 


KEMIXISCEXCES 


during  the  only  heav}'  thunder  shower 
of  the  season,  the  Belleville  meeting- 
house was  struck  by  lightning  and 
speedily  consumed.  It  was  the  after- 
noon for  the  annual  spring  town  meet- 
ing, which  was  held  in  the  lower  parish 
meeting-house,  and  only  two  or  thf^e 
men  in  the  whole  vicinity  were  at  home. 
About  half-past  two  I  sat  down  before 
the  fire  in  my  room  to  warm  my  feet. 
Turk  laid  down  beside  me.  It  had 
been  thundering  some  moments,  but 
the  shower  came  up  apace.  Suddenly 
a  terrible  clap  burst  overhead ;  the 
lightning  coming  down  the  chimney 
crinkled  upon  the  hearth  about  my  feet. 
Turk  jumped  half  way  to  the  ceiling, 
thfcu  sank  on  the  floor,  trembling  with 
fright.  For  a  moment  I  could  not  stir. 
Thinking  that  the  premises  must  have 
been  struck,  with  a  mighty  effort  I 
gained  my  feet,  and  by  aid  of  the  furni- 
ture reached  the  end  window.  Smoke 
was  curling  round  the  corner  of  the 
barn.  Supposing  it  to  be  on  fire,  I  was 
endeavoring  to  get  to  the  door  to  call 
Mr.  Babb,  when  he,  shouting,  "The 
meeting-house  is  struck,  the  meeting- 
house is  on  fire,"  seized  a  couple  of 
pails  of  water,  and  with  the  boy  ran  up 
the  street.  The  Portsmouth  stage, 
Zachariah  Davidson  driver,  was  exactly 
in  front  of  the  meeting-house  when  the 
bolt  struck,  and  the  two  leading  horses 
were  brought  to  their  knees.  Mr.  Da- 
vidson ran  his  team  down  High  street, 
giving  the  alarm.  The  few  men  about 
the  neighborhood  and  a  small  army  of 
women  were  soon  at  the  scene  of  the 
conflagration.  Xo  water  was  at  hand, 
and  the  fire  spread  with  such  rapidity 
little  could  be  done  ;  only  a  few  hymn- 
books,  Bibles  and  pew  doors  were 
saved.  The  engines  and  fire  companies 
came  up  from  town,  and  the  men  ran 


their  horses  from  town-meeting,  but  it 
was  only  to  witness  the  fall  of  the 
sturdy  frame  of  the  sacred  edifice. 
This  was  a  severe  loss  to  the  society', 
but  it  was  a  dispensation  of  Providence, 
and  no  complaint  could  be  made.  Ar- 
rangements were  immediately  entered 
upon  for  the  building  of  another  house, 
which  was  complefed  and  occupied  be- 
fore cold  weather.  During  its  erection 
the  society  worshipped  in  the  court- 
house. 

I  did  not  full}-  recover  from  the  shock 
I  had  received  for  some  hours  ;  and 
ever  after,  at  the  approach  of  a  shower, 
Turk  alwaj's,  if  possible,  hid  himself 
under  a  bed,  showing  great  fear. 

After  much  dissension,  the  society  in 
the  upper  parish  of  Newbury  voted  to 
refer  the  site  for  a  new  meeting-house 
to  a  committee  of  disinterested  persons. 
Judge  Timothy  Pickering  of  Salem, 
and  Governors  John  Taylor  Gilman 
and  Jeremiah  Smith  of  New  Hamp- 
shire were  selected.  These  gentlemen 
very  proper!}'  decided  that  it  should 
stand  on  the  plain,  a  little  below  meet- 
ing-house hill.  A  neat  edifice,  of  which 
the  new  church  at  Belleville  was  almost 
'an  exact  counterpart,  had  been  complet- 
ed, and  on  the  12th  of  June,  1816,  the 
Kev.  John  Kirby  of  Middletown,  Conn., 
was  ordained. 

Two  years  previous,  the  1st  of  June. 
1814,  the  Rev.  Gilbert  Williams,  of 
Fog's  Manor,  N.  J.,  had  been  ordained 
pastor  over  the  second  parish  in  Xew- 
bury.  On  the  31st  of  October,  1816, 
the  Rev.  Leonard  Withington.  of  Dor- 
chester, was  settled  over  the  Oldtown 
Society.  Dr.  Withington  had  even 
then,  though  a  j*oung  man  and  a  stran- 
ger, made  his  mark,  and  his  ordination 
was  a  season  of  rejoicing  and  festivity. 

Of  the  pleasant  family  circle  I  had  en- 


OF   A 


291 


tered  at  my  marriage,  no  one  was  more 
respected  and  beloved  than  the  widow 
of  Col.  Dudley  Colman.  Her  father, 
John  Jones,  esq.,  a  gentleman  of 
wealth  and  position,  was  great  grand- 
son of  Michael  Wigglesworth,  author  of 
''Day  of  Doom,"  and  grandson  of  Rev. 
Samuel  Wigglesworth  of  Ipswich  Ham- 
let, now  Hamilton.  Her  mother  was 
Mary  Whipple  of  Grafton .  Mary  Jones 
Colman  was  his  only  daughter ;  her 
only  brother,  Nathaniel  Jones,  died  in 
early  manhood,  leaving  three  sons, 
Nathaniel,  John  and  Samuel,  ancl*one  4?  man 
daughter,  Mrs.  Katharine  (Jones) 
Brown,  the  distinguished  teacher  in 
Newburyport,  and  Georgetown,  D.  C. 
After  her  husband's  decease,  Mrs.  Col- 
man resided  amongst  her  children. 
Previous  to  his  settlement  in  Salem  the 
Rev.  Henry  Colman  was  ordained  over 
a  society  in  Hingham.  As  was  cus- 
tomary for  clergymen  in  countiy  par- 
ishes, usually  there  were  a  few  lads 
boarding  in  the  family,  fitting  for  col- 
lege under  Mr.  Column's  instruction. 
Peculiarly  adapted  for  the  office  of 
teacher,  a  mutual  regard  was  formed 
between  master  and  pupils,  which  con- 
tinued through  life. 

John  Jones,  the  youngest  son,  mar- 
ried Eliza,  daughter  of  Josiah  and  Olive 
Neal,  and  settled  in  Brookfield  ;  he  died 
young,  and  his  widow  married  his  broth- 
er Charles,  of  Brookfield.  Mr.  Charles 
Colman  was  an  active,  courageous,  en- 
terprising man,  and  unusually  well  in- 
formed ;  he  could  speak  both  French  and 
Spanish  fluently.  In  the  war  of  1812 
he  was  taken  prisoner,  held  as  a  host- 
age, and  confined  in  the  jail  at  Quebec. 
With  two  others  he  esacaped.  Hving 
stolen  a  calf,  which  they  managed  to 
dress  and  roast,  they  made  the  best  of 
their  way  through  the  woods  for  several 


clays,  but  were  so  blinded  by  mosquito 
bites  they  were  unable  to  proceed,  and 
were  recaptured.  Afterwards  Mr.  Col- 
man was  taken  to  Halifax.  At  the  dis- 
banding of  the  army  he  returned  home, 
where  he  learned  that  at  the  time  he 
was  taken  prisoner  a  Colonel's  commis- 
sion was  on  the  way  to  him,  which  he 
failed  to  get.  But  later  he  received  the 
deed  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of 
land,  as  other  soldiers.  Bridget  Col- 
man, the  only  daughter  remarkable  for 
her  beauty,  married  a  French  gentle- 
named  Chappetin,  and  went  to 
Providence,  R.  I. 

Aunt  Colman  was  accustomed  to 
make  an  annual  visit  to  her  Newbury 
relatives,  which  caused  much  family 
festivity.  Early  in  March  we  received 
intelligence  that  Mrs.  Colman  might  be 
expected  on  the  next  Wednesda}-  in  the 
two  o'clock  stage  from  Portsmouth. 
Punctual!}'  at  the  time  appointed  our 
visitor  came.  Dinner  over,  she  called 
for  the  swift  and  began  to  wind  the 
yarn  to  knit  a  petticoat,  those  garments 
at  that  time  being  universally  worn. 
The  stitches  having  been  cast  on  two 
long  wooden  needles,  her  fingers  flew 
with  a  rapidity  seldom  equalled,  while 
an  entertaining  conversation  was  sus- 
tained in  which  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  the  world  was  shown,  a  keen  insight 
of  men  and  modes,  coupled  with  exten- 
sive reading,  expressed  with  a  keen  wit, 
and  sparkling  versatility  of  language 
which  was  most  engaging. 

Invitations  had  been  sent  for  a  fam- 
ily gathering  the,  next  afternoon.  The 
ladies  came  at  three  o'clock,  the  gentle- 
men joining  them  at  tea.  A  merry 
evening  was  enjoyed.  Father,  and  Un- 
cle Ben  Colman  and  Uncle  Searle  were 
brimming  over  with  jokes  and  anec- 
dotes, in  which  they  were  fully  sus- 


292 


EEMTXISCEXCES 


tained  by  their  sons  and  nephews. 
Aunt  Dudley  was  unusually  entertain- 
ing. Aunt  Doctor,  (as  the  widow  of 
Dr.  Samuel  Colman  was  usually  tsrmed , ) 
a  stout,  dignified  lady,  became  remark- 
ably genial ;  her  daughter  Mary  Ann, 
the  distinguished  teacher,  in  a  quiet 
way  added  much  to  the  conversation  ; 
her  second  daughter,  Hannah,  after- 
wards Mrs.  Wait  of  Baltimore,  a"  great 
beauty,  looked  unusually  lovely.  Aunt 
Searle's  black  eyes  danced  with  glee, 
and  Mrs.  Jeremiah  and  Daniel  'Colman, 
with  their  little  girls,  completed  the  cir- 
cle. At  nine  o'clock  the  company  sep- 
arated with  expressions  of  satisfaction 
and  the  hope  of  many  future  reunions. 
Frfday  it  stormed.  One  ought  to  have 
seen  Aunt  Dudley's  fingers  fly  !  That 
evening  the  petticoat  was  completed — 
a  feat  scarcely  equalled  in  the  annals  of 
knitting. 


CHAPTER   LVII. 

The  summer  of  1817  President  Mon- 
roe  made  a  tour  to  New  England.  On 
June  16th  a  meeting  of  the  citizens  of 
Newburyport  was  called  in  the  Town 
Hall  to  prepare  for  4he  distinguished 
visitor's  reception,  and  the  following 
gentlemen  were  chosen  as  a  committee 
of  arrangements : 

Ebenezer  Moseley,  Abraham  Wil- 
liams, Robert  Clark,  Richard  Bartlett. 
Stephen  Howard,  selectmen  ;  with  Wil- 
liam Bartlett,  Joseph  Marquand,  Moses 
Brown,  William  B.  Bannister,  Joshua 
Carter,  Thomas  M.  Clark,  William 
Cross,  Daniel  Swett,  Joseph  Williams 
and  Josiah  Smith  esq.  The  committee 
invited  the  Hon.  Jeremiah  Nelson  to 
join  them. 


The  following  named  gentlemen  were 
appointed  marshals  for  Newburyport  : 

Maj.  Joshua  Greenleaf,  Maj.  Abra- 
ham Perkins,  Capt.  William  Davis, 
Col.  Enoch  Plummer,  Capt.  Thomas 
Burrill.  Capt.  Joseph  T.  Pike,  Maj. 
Ebenezer  Stone,  Doct.  John  Brickett, 
Butler  Abbot,  Maj.  Oilman  White. 
Newbur}*,  joined  in  the  reception,  and 
Col.  Ebenezer  Hale,  Maj.  David  Em- 
ery, Maj.  Daniel  Smith,  Capt.  John 
Emery  Bartlett,  Adj.  George  Water- 
man, acted  as  marshals  from  that  town. 

On  July  7th,  the  following  military 
order  was  issued  : 

"Pursuant  to  Division  orders,  a  mil- 
itary escort  has  been  ordered  to  receive 
the  President  and  his  suit  at  Ipswich. 
The  field  and  staff  officers  of  the  several 
regiments  in  the  Brigade,  together  with 
such  captains  and  subalterns  as  may  be 
so  disposed,  will  assemble  in  Ipswich 
in  uniform,  and  mounted,  on  Thursday, 
10th  inst.,  at  9  o'clock,  to  join  in  the 
escort. 

Regiment  of  Cavalry  under  the  com- 
mand of  Col.  Jeremiah  Colman. 

Brigadier  General  of  the  2nd  Brigade 
and  Staff. 

Maj.  General  of  2nd  Division  and 
suite. 

Part  of  the  Committee  of  Arrange- 
ments. 

Officers  of  the  several  Regiments  in 
the  2nd  Brigade.  2nd  Division,  M.  M. 

Cavalcade  of  Citizens. 

The  escort  will  receive  the  President 
at  Ipswich  and  attend  him  through  the 
Brigade. 

Maj.  John  Scott  and  Maj.  David 
Wood,  jr.,  are  appointed  Marshals,  and 
will  arrange  the  escort. 

BENJAMIN  STICKNEY. 
Urijr.-Gen.  2d  IJii^adc.  2<1  Division,  M.  M. 


The  cavalcade  to  form  at  the  Lower 
Green  ;  carriages  to  proceed  in  the  rear 
of  the  procession." 

Owing  to  unavoidable  delay  the  Pres- 
idejit  did  not  reach  Newburyport  until 


OF   A 


Saturday,  the  12th  of  Juty,  which  was 
an  extremely  hot  day.  During  his  se- 
vere and  long  sickness,  thinking  that 
his  health  would  never  again  permit 
military  duty,  Maj.  Emery  resigned  his 
position  in  the  cavalry,  consequently 
he  had  no  connexion  with  the  troops  on 
this  occasion,  but  he  acted  as  marshal. 
He  still  retained  his  parade  horse  Pea- 
cock, and  Col.  Eben  Hale  rode  our 
handsome  mare  Kate.  The  marshals 
wore  chapeaus  ornamented  with  a  black 
cockade,  a  gilt  eagle  in  the  centre,  and 
swords  with  scarlet  sashes.  As  Col. 
Hale  and  my  husband  cantered  down 
High  street  you  would  rarely  see  two 
finer  or  better  mounted  horsemen. 

"The  cavalry  under  Col.  Colman,  the 
field  and  staff  officers  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Majors  John  Scott  and  David 
Wood  jr. ,  took  up  the  escort  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Parker  river  bridge,  where 
the  President  was  met  by  the  Hon.  Bai- 
ley Bartlett,  sheriff  of  Essex,  with  his 
suite,  together  with  the  committee  of 
arrangements,  when  Colonel  Moselej-, 
as  their  chairman,  addressed  him  as  fol- 
lows : 

Sir, — A  number  of  the  citizens  of 
Newburyport  and  vicinity,  desirous  of 
paying  you  their  respects,  have  taken 
this  liberty  to  meet  you  on  your  journey, 
and  with  }rour  permission  will  accom- 
pany you  to  Newburyport,  where  the 
citizens  of  that  town  will  be  happy  in  a 
more  formal  manner  to  pay  }*ou  their 
salutations." 

The  President  left  his  carriage  and 
mounted  his  horse.  On  reaching  the 
Newburyport  line,  the  peal  of  bells  and 
the  roar  of  cannon,  from  Capt.  Coffin's 
well  disciplined  company  of  Artillery, 
announced  the  approach  of  the  distin- 
guished visitor.  The  President  was 
•greeted  by  loud  hurrahs  from  the  throng 
lining  both  sides  of  High  street.  At-the 


Mall  he  was  received  by  the  Washing- 
ton Light  Infantry,  Capt.  Balch,  and 
passing  under  a  civic  arch  which  was 
tastefully  decorated  with  wreaths  of 
flowers,  he  passed  through  an  avenue  of 
youth  of  both  sexes,  arranged  on  each 
side.  The  school  children  wore  a  uni- 
form of  white  and  blue,  which  was  most 
becoming.  In  front  of  the  Court  House 
waved  a  revolutionary  flag.  The  pro- 
cession, after  proceeding  the  length  of 
the  Mall,  marched  down  Market  street, 
through  Union,  down  Green,  through 
Merrimac  and  Market  square,  up  State 
street  to  Oilman's  Hotel.  This  was  the 
Eastern  Stage  House,  kept  by  John  Gil- 
man,  which  had  been  removed  some  two 
or  three  years  previous  from  Col.  Bart- 
lett's  late  residence  on  the  corner  of 
Temple  street,  to  the  mansion  built  by 
Gen.  John  Peabodj',  on  State,  corner 
of  Harris  street,  lower  half  of  the  pres- 
ent Merrimac  House. 

At  the  hotel  the  President  was  greet- 
ed by  a  larger  assembly  than  had  ever 
before  collected  in  the  town  ;  and  as  he 
entered,  accompanied  by  Gen.  Swift, 
Mr.  Mason,  other  officials,  and  the  com- 
mittee of  arrangements,  the  gratulatory  < 
shouts  of  his  fellow  citizens  rent  the  air. 
The  chairman,  Col.  Moseley,  spoke  as 
follows : 

"Sir, — The  citizens  of  Newbuiyport, 
by  their  committee,  beg  leave  to  pre- 
sent their  sincere  respects  to  the  Chief 
Magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

Having  been  called  by  a  free  and  in- 
telligent people  to  preside  over  their 
most  important  concerns,  it  must  be 
peculiarly  grateful  to  your  feelings  at 
the  commencement  of  your  arduous  du- 
ties to  be  made  more  particularly  ac- 
quainted with  their  local  interests,  and 
to  receive  their  affectionate  and  respect- 
ful salutations.  It  is  no  less  pleasing 


294 


REMINISCENCES 


to  us  than  happy  for  the  nation,  that 
we  derive  the  honor  of  this  interview, 
from  the  practical  operation  of  that 
maxim  of  your  illustrious  predecessor, 
the  Father  of  his  country,  in  his  last  af- 
fectionate address  to  his  fellow  citizens, 
that  timely  disbursements  to  prepare 
for  danger  frequently  prevent  much 
greater  disbursements  to  repel  it.  A 
numerous  and  wealth}-  population, 
stretching  along  an  extensive  seacoast, 
present  to  a  foreign  enemy  many  allur- 
ing objects  of  attack,  and  the  present 
period  of  peace  and  public  tranquility 
appears  peculiarly  favorable  for  your 
patriotic  efforts  for  our  defence  and  se- 
curity. Enjoying  as  we  do  the  hless- 
ings  of  a  free  government,  our  attach- 
ment cannot  be  the  lees  ardent  when 
administered  by  one  who  took  an  hon- 
orable and  active  part  in  those  measures 
by  which  it  was  obtained.  We  trust 
that  under  your  administration,  by  the 
smiles  of  a  kind  Providence,  a  spirit  of 
peace  will  be  general!}'  diffused,  the  ven- 
erable and  pious  institutions  of  our  fath- 
ers preserved,  and  the  citizens  meet 
their  appropriate  reward  in  the  labors 
of  agriculture,  manufactures  and  com- 
merce, and  in  extending  the  sciences 
and  arts. 

Accept,  sir,  our  best  wishes,  that  you 
may  prosper  in  the  important  objects 
of  your  journey,  and  at  the  close  of your 
labors  receive  a  consolation,  the  most 
dear  to  a  patriot,  in  the  happiness  and 
prosperity  of  his  country." 

The  President  replied,  "That  he  re- 
ceived with  great  sensibility  the  atten- 
tions of  the  citizens  of  Xewburyport — 
that  his  principal  object  in  making  this 
tour  was  to  see  the  situation  of  the  peo- 
ple in  different  parts  of  the  country,  and 
the  entrance  and  harbors  of  the  princi- 
pal towns,  and  to  acquire  such  informa- 


tion as  would  enable  him  better  to  dis- 
charge the  duties  of  his  office  ;  that  in 
his  journey  he  had  been  highly  gratified 
with  the  prosperous  condition  of  the 
people,  and  that  their  situation  was  far 
more  happy  than  that  of  any  other  in 
any  part  of  the  world,  and  that  we  could 
not  be  sufficiently  thankful  to  that 
bountiful  Providence  which  had  con- 
ferred upon  us  such  distinguished  bless- 
ings." The  President  concluded  with 
desiring  "that  his  grateful  sentiments 
for  the  kind  and  respectful  manner  in 
which  he  had  been  received  by  the  citi- 
zens might  be  communicated  to  them." 

After  mutually  exchanging  civilities 
with  his  fellow  citizens  the  President 
and  suite  sat  down  to  a  sumptuous  din- 
ner, served  up  by  Mr.  Oilman  with 
much  elegance  and  taste.  Gen.  Swift 
presided  at  the  table.  Among  the 
guests  were  Major  Gen.  Dearborn, 
Com.  Bainbridge,  Brig.  Gen.  Miller, 
Dr.  Waterhouse  and  Gen.  Brickett, 
with  the  reverend  clergy  from  this  and 
many  of  the  adjacent  towns.  Gen. 
Swift  announced  the  following  as  the 
toast  of  the  President:  "Happiness  and 
prosperity  to  the  inhabitants  of  Xew- 
buryport." The  President  having  sig- 
nified his  pleasure  to  dispense  with  the 
escort  of  cavalry,  retired  into  another 
apartment,  and  after  taking  an  affec- 
tionate leave  of  the  committee  of  ar- 
rangements he  ascended  his  carriage 
amid  loud  and  reiterated  cheering  and 
resumed  his  journey.  At  Amesbury  he 
tarried  about  an  hour,  viewed  the  fac- 
tories, expressing  his  admiration  at  their 
situation  and  his  gratification  at  their 
flourishing  condition.  He  arrived  in 
Portsmouth  between  six  and  seven 
o'clock. 

The  President  was  highly  gratified 
with  the  local  situation  of  the  town. 


OF   A  STCWAGENARIAN. 


295 


Liberal  feelings  ruled  the  day ;  it  em- 
braced all  as  Federalists,  all  as  Repub- 
licans. The  regiment  of  cavalry  com- 
manded by  Col.  Colman,  conducted  in 
a  manner  gratifying  to  spectators  and 
highly  honorable  to  themselves.  Col- 
lected as  they  were,  from  the  remote 
parts  of  the  brigade,  great  credit  is  due 
these  troops  for  the  alacrity  with  which 
they  obeyed,  and  the  promptitude  with 
which  they  executed  the  command  of 
the  Brigadier  General.  They  at  once 
pi'esented  a  pleasing  specimen  of  good 
order,  correct  discipline,  and  soldier- 
like deportment. 

The  following  card  was  inserted  in 
the  Newburyport  Herald  of  July  15th: 

••The  committee  of  arrangements  in 
behalf  of  the  citizens,  present  their 
thanks  to  the  teachers  of  the  respective 
schools,  and  the  marshals  of  the  da}-, 
for  the  very  handsome  and  interesting 
manner  in  which  the  children  were  pre- 
sented to  the  view  of  the  President  on 
the  day  of  his  arrival,  and  which  called 
from  him  expressions  of  high  approba- 
tion." 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

The  September  following  I  was  taken 
with  a  slow  t\"phoid  fever,  which  ran 
forty  days,  by  which  I  was  left  extreme- 
ly feeble,  and  confined  me  to  the  house 
during  the  winter.  My  sister  Susan 
was  with  me  most  of  the  time,  and  the 
tedium  of  a  slow  convalescence  was  en- 
livened by  a  bevy  of  j'outhful  neigh- 
bors. 

Mr.  Enoch  Toppan's  two  sons,  Moses 
and  Edward,  and  their  sisters,  Hannah 
and  Margaret,  were  still  at  the  home- 
stead. Mr.  Stephen  Toppan's  oldest 
daughter,  Mrs.  Green,  had  returned  to 
her  father's  house  a  widow,  with  three 


daughters  and  one  son.  Esther  had 
married  Mr.  William  Boardman,  but 
Harry,  Charlotte,  -Nancy  and  Stephen 
were  at  home.  Mr.  Abner  Toppan's 
oldest  daughter,  Sophia,  had  married 
Mr.  Oliver  Crocker  and  gone  to  New 
Bedford,  Betsey  and  Ariana  were  un- 
married. Abner  and  Stanford  lads  in 
their  teens,  Harriet  and  George  mere 
children.  With  Mrs.  Reuben  Jones' 
nieces,  Mary  and  Maria  Stanwood,  the 
young  people  from  these  families  formed 
a  gay  group,  with  whom  my  sister  im- 
mediately became  a  favorite,  and  the 
quiet  of  my  room  was  often  broken  by 
a  ripple  of  girlish  glee,  and  as  I  became 
stronger  the  3'oung  gentlemen  greatly 
enjoyed  dropping  in  of  an  evening. 

In  October  was  received  the  sad  in- 
telligence of  the  death  of  our  dearly  be- 
loved cousin,  Adeline  Peabody.  Her 
departure  was  not  unexpected,  but  it 
brought  an  irrepressible  grief,  though 
we  well  knew  that  our  loss  was  to  her 
an  inestimable  gain.  The  following 
truthful  and  touching  lines  were  written 
by  a  friend,  a  gentleman  of  George- 
town, D.  C.  : 

"LINES 

Occasioned  by  the  death  of  Miss  Adeline 
Peabody,  a  young  lady  who  died  after  a  long 
and  distressing  illness  at  Georgetown,  D.  C., 
Oct.  9th,  1817,  aged  19  years. 

"Knowing  this,  that  the  trial  of  your  faith 
worketh  patieiKje;  but  let  patience  have  her 
perfect  work,  that  ye  may  be  perfect  and  en- 
tire, wanting  noihing." — fet.  James. 

Patience !   at  length    thy    'perfect    work'   is 

done, 

And  Adeline  has  rest  among  the  dead  : 
Her  ravished  sou!  awakes,  the  eternal  sun 
Burst  through  the  clouds  that  gathered  round 

her  head. 

On  eager  wings  the  immortal  spirit  soars; 
Her  sister  angels  hail  her  to  the  skies— 
Oh!  glorious  flight  from  earth's  encumbering 

clay, 
From  scenes  where  woe  their  constant  vigils 

keep, 

Where  cares  perplex  the  anxious  heart  by  day, 
And   sorrow  drives  from  night  the   balm  of 

sleep ! 


296 


REMINISCENCES 


Yet  can  affection  bid  such  worth  farewell, 

As  thine,  sweet  Adeline,  without  a  tear, 

Or  cause,  in  pensive  tenderness,  to  dwell 

On  virtues  that  thy  memory  endear? 

Thy  love  that  shed  its  genial  warmth  around, 

Thy  manners,  gentle,  affable  and  kind, 

Thy    generous    friendship — candor    without 

bound, 

Thy  spotless  purity  of  heart  and  mind ! 
O  bright  ensample  of  unsullied  youth, 
O  holy  faith  and  piety  sincere, 
'Twas  thine,  appointed  by  the  word  of  truth, 
To  view  the  early  grave  without  a  fear ; 
To  see  with  joy  the  sure   approach  of  death ; 
The  blessed  privilege  to  thee  was  given, 
And  si.me  bright  seraph,  as  he  caught  thy 

breath. 
Gave  thy  departing  soul  a  glimpse  of  heaven." 

Grief  and  joy  go  band  in  baud.  In 
the  December  following  cousin  Ade- 
line's death  my  brother  James  was  mar- 
ried to  Miss  Sarah  B.  Little,  the  second 
daughter  of  my  husband's  uncle,  Ed- 
mund Little.  The  bride  and  groom 
were  second  cousins.  Intermarriage  is 
a  family  trait  amongst  the  Littles,  which 
is  likely  to  continue  to  the  latest  gener- 
ation. My  brother  and  his  bride  set 
up  housekeeping  at  the  old  homestead, 
as  James  was  needed  to  assist  his  fath- 
er on  the  farm. 

In  February  Mr.  Thurston  Colman 
was  married  to  Miss  Nanc}T  Harris. 
This  young  couple  went  to  housekeep- 
ing in  the  house  on  the  lower  corner  of 
Tyng  street ;  but  they  soon  moved  into 
Mr.  Harris's  house,  on  the  corner  of 
Toppan's  lane,  where  he  resided 
through  his  long  life. 

As  vigor  did  not  return  with  spring, 
Dr.  Robinson  recommended  a  journey 
to  Saratoga.  .1  was  so  feeble  that  many 
of  the  family  strongly  objected  to  so 
long  a  jaunt ;  but  Mr.  Emery  was  desir- 
ous for  the  trip.  ' 

In  1815  the  sign  was  taken  down, 
and  from  that  time  we  entertained  only 
the  drovers,  who  could  not  dispense 
with  the  yards.  Three  of  the  butchers 
had  left,  John  Pillion  for  Providence, 
R.  I. ;  Mr.  Joseph  Mead  had  married 


and  settled  on  his  father's  farm,  in  Mer- 
edith, N.  H.  Mr.  Colman's  marriage 
left  tnily  Mr.  Babb  and  the  boy  in  the 
family.  Betsey  Downing  had  gone  as 
cook  to  a  boarding-house  in  Boston, 
and  her  place  had  been  supplied  by 
Betsey  Durgin,  a  young  girl  mother  Col- 
man had  brought  up  at  By  field.  Thus 
an  opportunit}'  was  afforded  for  a  short 
absence  from  home  ;  consequently  prep- 
arations for  the  tour  were  commenced, 
though  my  strength  was  scarcely  suffi- 
cient for  the  effort.  Mr.  Joe  T.  Pike 
cut  and  made  in  his  best  style  a  blue 
cloth  riding-habit  for  the  journey'  ;  it 
was  trimmed  with  buttons  and  velvet  in 
the  tip-top  of  fashion.  Aunt  Bartlett's 
establishment  furnished  a  drawn  green 
silk  bonnet,  with  a  short  sarsenet  veil. 
This  was  then  the  genteel  mode  for 
traveling.  We  owned  a  handsome 
chaise ;  Kate  and  Peacock  were  har- 
nessed to  it  tandem  ;  a  traveling  trunk, 
which  had  been  made  expressly  to  strap 
to  the  vehicle,  was  put  in  place,  the 
box  stowed  with  luggage,  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  second  of  June  we  turned 
our  horses'  heads  Saratogaward. 

Our  first  stop  was  at  my  Aunt  Co- 
ker's.  Mr.  Coker  had  recently  sold  the 
Crane  Neck  farm  and  purchased  the 
Hooper  place,  on  Pipestave  Hill,  whith- 
er the}-  had  removed.  The  Dalton 
place  adjoining  was  then  owned  by 
Captain  Joseph.  Stan  wood.  In  the 
palmy  days  of  Newburyport  commerce, 
the  old  gentleman  would  sit  at  his  cham- 
ber window,  spyglass  in  hand,  watching 
for  one  or  another  of  his  vessels  to  ap- 
pear at  the  bar,  at  sight  of  which  his 
horse  was  ordered,  and  he  was  in  town 
to  meet  her  at  the  wharf.  After  dining 
at  my  father's  we  rode  over  to  the  West 
parish  in  Haverhill  to  pass  the  night 
with  my  Aunt  Chase.  Mr.  Amos  Chase 


OF   A 


297 


had  some  }~ears  previous  purchased  a 
large  farm  there,  and  the  house  was 
merry  with  a  fine  family  of  stalwart 
boys  and  handsome  girls.  After  a  most 
pleasant  visit  we  proceeded  to  Pem- 
broke, and  the  following  morning  rode 
into  Concord  to  breakfast.  It  chanced 
to  be  election  da}".  Stickney's  Tavern 
was  thronged  with  the  members  of  the 
General  Court  and  their  wives.  After 
breakfast,  as  I  was  chilly,  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney  ushered  me  into  a  back  sitting- 
room,  where  there  was  a  fire.  My 
sanctum  was  soon  invaded  by  some 
half-dozen  of  the  elite  of  the  New  Hamp- 
shire ladies,  to  whom,  after  the  early 
morning  ride  from  their  homes,  the 
warmth  was  exceedingly  grateful.  Some 
of  these  thus  accidentally  thrown  togeth- 
er were  acquaintances  ;  the  others  were 
introduced.  There  were  Mrs.  General 
this  and  Mrs.  Colonel  that,  Mrs.  Judge 
and  'Squire  so-and-so ;  titles  fairly 
rained.  After  the  recognitions  and  in- 
troductions were  over,  all  eyes  centered 
on  me,  and  there  came  a  dead  pause  ; 
then  two  or  three  of  the  chief  dignitaries 
whispered  together,  after  which,  one 
who  instituted  herself  spokeswoman  ap- 
proached and  politely  inquired,  "to 
which  member  I  belonged?"  I  ex- 
plained that  I  was  a  stranger  on  a  jour- 
ney. "You  are  from  below?"  ques- 
tioned my  interlocutor.  "Yes,"  I  re- 
turned, naming  my  place  of  residence. 
As  I  ceased  speaking  the  group  thronged 
about  me.  "Would  I  please  excuse, 
but  was  this  the  newest  style  for  riding 
dress?"  Having  examined  my  habit 
and  bonnet  minutely,  and  farther  in- 
quired respecting  Boston  fashion,  the 
conversation  was  abruptly  ended  by  the 
entrance  of  Mr.  Emery,  accompanied 
by  the  respective  Generals,  Colonels, 
Judges  and  Esquires  belonging  to  the 


fair  dames,  most  of  whom  were  his 
friends.  Wine  was  brought,  and  after 
a  merry  chat  we  separated,  the  New 
Hampshire  part}'  to  assist  in  the  elec- 
tion ceremonies  and  festivities  ;  we  to 
proceed  to  our  friends  in  Boscawen, 
where  we  remained  until  the  next  week 
Wednesday.  While  there  Mrs.  Deacon 
Enoch  Little  of  Little's  Hill,  gave  a 
Little  party,  at  which  twelve  were  pres- 
ent, the  number  having  been  gathered 
together  at  a  half-hour's  notice.  Wed- 
nesday morning  we  bade  our  Boscawen 
friends  adieu,  and  proceeded  on  our 
route.  The  day's  ride  brought  us  to 
Newport,  where  we  passed  the  night ; 
the  next  we  slept  at  a  country  tavern 
high  up  amongst  the  mountains.  Fri- 
day morning  Connecticut  river  was 
crossed.  The  ferryman  resided  on  the 
Vermont  shore.  Mr.  Emery  having 
blown  a  summons  from  the  tin  horn  sus- 
pended from  a  post  for  that  purpose, 
after  a  tedious  delay  a  rickety  ferry  boat 
was  pushed  off  and  rowed  toward  us. 
I  was  mortally  afraid  the  old  thing 
would  sink  in  mid  stream,  but  greatly 
to  my  relief  we  gained  terra  firma  in 
safet}' .  That  night  was  passed  at  Cas- 
tleton,  at  a  tavern  on  a  large  farm. 
Fifteen  handsome  cows  attracted  my  at- 
tention as  they  came  to  the  yard  to  be 
milked.  My  hostess,  seeing  that  I  was 
interested  in  Her  dair}-,  took  me  to  look 
at  her  cheese,  very  large  and  fine  ones. 
As  we  came  back,  the  landlady's  daugh- 
ter drew  me  to  the  open  door  to  hear  a 
whippoorwill.  The  child  was  much  as- 
tonished to  learn  that  I  had  heard  "her 
bird,"  as  she  termed  it,  before. 

The  next  morning  this  little  girl  came 
with  the  request  that  the  lady  from  New- 
buryport  would  go  to  her  grandmother's 
room  a  few  moments.  Following  my 
small  guide,  I  entered  a  light,  cheerful 
38 


298 


apartment  leading  from  the  kitchen, 
where  I  found  a  pleasant-faced  old  lad}' 
seated  in  an  arm-chair  beside  a  linen 
wheel.  Her  knitting- work,  Bible,  hymn 
book  and  spectacles  la}'  on  a  stand  near  ; 
a  woolen  wheel  stood  on  the  other  side 
of  the  fireplace,  and  in  the  corner  oppo- 
site the  bed  was  placed  a  small  loom. 
To  the  remark  ''that  this  looked  like  a 
hive  of  industry,"  the  old  lady  replied 
that  she  needed  something  to  wile  away 
the  time,  and  her  son  had  fitted  up  this 
room  for  her  accommodation,  so  that 
when  tired  of  one  occupation  she  could 
take  another.  "The}'  tell  me  you  are 
from  Newburyport,  my  dear,  and  I 
wished  to  see  you,  for  that  is  the  place 
where  the  blessed  Whitefteld  died  and 
lies  buried.  Of  course  you  have  visited 
his  tomb  ?"  I  was  compelled  to  reply 
in  the  negative,  which  great ly  surprised 
the  good  woman.  "Lived  so  nigh  all 
your  life,  and  never  visited  Whitefield's 
tomb  !  Why,  I  allers  thought  if  I  went 
within  fort}'  miles  of  the  place  I  would 
.make  a  pilgrimage  expressly  to  visit  the 
sacred  shrine.  Go  to  see  it  on  your  re- 
turn, I  beg,  for  my  sake.  Visit  the 
dear  saint's  last  resting  place."  Hav- 
ing listened  to  the  recital  of  her  conver- 
sion through  Whitefield's  preaching, 
with  several  anecdotes  of  the  great  re- 
vivalist, I  bade  the  old  lady  good  morn- 
ing, to  resume  my  journey.  In  a  few 
hours  the  state  line  into  New  York  was 
crossed,  and  the  Dutch  origin  of  the  in- 
habitants soon  became  apparent.  The 
road,  much  used  for  drawing  lumber, 
was  deeply  rutted,  and  owing  to  recent 
rains  exceedingly  muddy.  During  the 
morning,  espying  a  red  flag  floating 
from  a  pole  in  the  distance,  Mr.  Emery 
drove  cautiously  forward,  supposing  it 
to  be  a  signal  of  danger.  Approaching 
a  small  stream,  we  found  that  the  bridge 


had  been  swept  away  and  a  party  of 
men  were  then  replacing  it.  Here  was 
a  dilemma  !  The  master  builder  said 
"he  could  get  the  chaise  and  horses 
across,  but  how  could  he  manage  for 
the  lady?"  The  string  pieces,  timbers 
a  foot  and  a  half  wide,  were  already 
laid.  I  told  him  if  he  would  take  my 
hand  T  would  walk  across,  which  I  did, 
much  to  the  admiration  of  my  escort 
and  his  fellow  laborers,  who  pronounced 
me  a  brave  little  woman.  The  chaise 
was  taken  over  plank  put  down  for  the 
purpose,  and  the  horses  having  swam 
across,  were  again  harnessed  and  we 
resumed  our  journey.  Fort  Ann  was 
passed  early  in  the  afternoon.  Here 
the  log  causeway  that  had  been  built  for 
the  passage  of  Burgoyne's  army,  was 
being  taken  up.  though  one  side  was 
left  while  the  other  was  rebuilt.  For 
two  miles  the  horses  walked  through 
mud  reaching  to  their  fetlocks. 

Sunday  morning  we  strayed  from  the 
direct  road  into  a  cart  path  through  the 
woods,  which  after  devious  picturesque 
windings,  brought  us  into  the  midst  of 
a  cluster  of  white,  one-story  cottages, 
surrounding  a  neat  church.  Drawing 
up  before  the  first  house,  a  woman  came 
to  the  door  in  a  short,  loose  gown  and 
petticoat,  patched  with  various  colors, 
a  white  cloth  cap,  and  bare  feet.  To 
Mr.  Emery's  inquiry  respecting  the 
route  she  stammered,  "I  will  call  mine 
goot  mon."  "Mine  goot  mon"  instant- 
ly appeared,  smoking  a  short  pipe.  He 
expressed  surprise  at  seeing  such  a 
turnout,  complimented  Mr.  Emery  upon 
his  skill  as  a  driver  over  the  primitive 
path  we  had  crossed,  and  directed  us  to 
follow  a  new  rail  fence  across  a  pasture, 
which  would  return  us  to  the  main  road 
without  difficulty.  After  a  drive  of  a 
mile  it  was  regained,  and  the  delay  was 


1 


OF   A   KTOXAGETN'ARIAX. 


299 


not  regretted,  as  by  it  we  obtained  a 
glimpse  of  what  seemed  a  foreign  coun- 
try. Dinner  was  taken  at  a  Dutch  tav- 
ern, owned  by  the  landlady,  whose  hus- 
band was  a  New  Englander.  The 
house,  a  large,  one-story  building,  with 
the  other  appurtenances,  were  the  acme 
of  neatness  ;  the  interior  of  the  inn  was 
as  clean  as  scrubbing  and  whitewash 
could  render  it,  but  there  was  not  a  bit 
of  paint  or  paper,  nor  a  carpet  in  the 
whole  premises.  We  had  an  excellent 
dinner,  served  in  good  style.  The  land- 
lad}*  waited  upon  the  table,  and  greatly 
amused  us  by  the  declaration,  "that  she 
had  married  a  Yankee  in  preference  to 
a  Dutchman,  they  were  so  much  smart- 
er, and  treated  their  wives  with  so  much 
more  respect." 

That  afternoon  we  passed  the  Hud- 
son at  Glen's  Falls,  one  of  the  most  pic- 
turesque of  cataracts.  The  bridge  was 
just  above  the  falls,  and  our  horses 
trotted  across  it  pretty  briskly,  while 
we  were  enveloped  in  the  spray. 

Ohio  was  then  the  El  Dorado  of  prom- 
ise to  emigrants.  Quite  an  exodus  was 
transpiring  in  western  Vermont,  and 
many  were  on  the  road.  A  short  dis- 
tance beyond  the  Hudson  we  overtook 
a  cart  drawn  by  a  yoke  of  oxen,  loaded 
with  household  goods.  Upon  a  feather 
bed  sat  a  middle-aged  woman,  while 
her  lord  drove  the  patient  team,  and  a 
barefooted  girl  trudged  behind,  driving 
a  cow.  Near  sunset  the  famed  water- 
ing place  was  reached,  then  a  mere  vil- 
lage. There  were  but  two  hotels — 
wooden  buildings  with  stoops — though 
every  family  was  in  readiness  to  receive 
boarders.  According  to  advice,  we 
drove  to  the  smaller  of  the  two  hotels, 
which  was  kept  by  a  Mr.  Donney,  who 
with  his  wife  were  natives  of  Connecti- 
cut. This  was  an  excellent  house,  and 


Mrs.  Donney  was  untiring  in  her  exer- 
tions for  my  comfort.  Being  early  in 
the  season  the  place  was  comparatively 
empty.  There  were  about  a  dozen 
boai-ders  in  the  house,  amongst  whom 
was  a  Mr.  Clark,  and  his  stepdaughter, 
Sophia  Parker,  formerly  belonging  in 
Boston,  then  residing  at  Salem,  Vt. 
They  were  very  pleasant  people  ;  Miss 
Parker  became  an  inseparable  compan- 
ion. A  Mr.  Amory  from  Boston,  an 
aged  gentleman  and  a  confirmed  invalid, 
was  boarding  at  the  other  hotel.  He 
sent  to  have  Mr.  Emery  call  upon  him, 
as  they  were  originally  from  one  stock  ; 
it  was  the  same  name. 

The  morning  after  our  arrival  Mr. 
Emery  escorted  me  to  the  springs  before 
breakfast.  Congress  Spring  was  en- 
closed by  a  railed  platform,  but  its  sur- 
roundings were  still  as  nature  left  them. 
"Round  Rock"  and  "Flat  Rock"  were 
in  the  midst  of  a  pasture.  The  whole 
village  presented  a  barren,  straggling 
appearance.  I  never  could  swallow 
more  than  three  tumblers  of  the  water 
at  a  time,  but  some  would  imbibe  double 
or  treble  that  quantity.  One  lad  often 
boasted  of  regularly  taking  his  eight 
glasses.  Man}-  amusing  scenes  were 
enacted  at  the  springs.  Such  wry  faces, 
spittings  and  sputterings  are  seldom 
witnessed.  The  wife  of  an  army  officer 
gave  the  company  a  deal  of  merriment 
by  her  grimaces  and  ejaculations.  Mr. 
Emery  could  not  drink  the  water,  but 
it  proved  beneficial  to  me. 

An  old  lady,  who  with  her  daughter 
and  son-in-law,  came  in  a  wagon  from 
her  home  on  a  farm  some  twenty  miles 
back,  amused  us  greatly.  She  was  suf- 
fering from  weak  eyes,  and  concluded 
to  try  the  efficacy  of  Saratoga  water  as 
a  remedy.  Declaring  herself  too  tired 
to  go  to  the  spring,  she  entered  the  par- 


300 


REMINISCENCES 


lor  and  despatched  her  daughter's  hus- 
band with  a  two-quart  pitcher,  which 
was  filled  and  placed  on  the  table  beside 
her,  when  she  vigorously  commenced 
the  task  of  imbibing  it.  Every  mouth- 
ful elicited  the  most  ludicrous  grimaces, 
accompanied  by  a  variet}*  of  odd  ejacu- 
lations, "But  she  didn't  ride  twenty 
miles  for  nothing,  you  must  live  and 
larn ;  she  was  determined  to  give  that 
water  a  good  try  if  it  did  taste  like 
pisen."  In  a  couple  of  hours  the  pitch- 
er was  emptied.  The  water  having  been 
topped  off  by  a  hearty  dinner,  the  dame 
remounted  her  wagon,  which  was  stowed 
with  an  array  of  kegs,  jugs  and  bottles, 
which  had  been  filled  to  take  home,  as- 
suring us  as  she  said  good-bye,  "that 
she  rah"  believed  there  was  something 
in  that  water,  she  felt  better  aready." 

I  was  interested  in  a  party  of  Quak- 
ers on  their  bridal  tour,  who  came  to 
the  village  in  a  large  Dutch  wagon, 
which  had  been  cleaned  and  furnished 
with  chairs  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  bride  and  her  sister.  The  chief  ob- 
ject of  the  visit  was  the  purchase  of  a 
bridal  bonnet,  which  was  brought,  tried 
on,  and  exhibited  with  pride  and  pleas- 
ure. 1  praised  the  head  gear,  as  I  saw 
it  was  expected,  though  the  new  bonnet 
of  white  satin,  Quaker  shaped,  was  so 
identical  with  the  old  one,  that  I  could 
not  have  told  one  from  the  other.  Upon 
hinting  this  to  the  young  wife,  she  hur- 
riedry  exclaimed.  "Oh,  the  old  one  is 
not  fresh  ;  see  this  spot !"  pointing  to 
the  tiniest  of  specks,  and  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  womanly  vanity  and 
fondness  for  dress  were  not  wholly 
smothered  under  the  Quaker  garlt. 

Emigrants  to  Ohio  were  daily  passing 
through  the  village,  presenting  more  or 
less  thrift  in  their  outfit.  One  wealthy 
3'eoman  moved  his  family  in  a  frame 


building  drawn  by  his  numerous  draft 
animals,  while  a  large  drove  of  cattle 
and  sheep  brought  up  the  rear.  The 
caravan  presented  a  singular  spectacle 
as  it  moved  slowly  past,  the  smoke 
curling  from  the  stovepipe,  and  the 
women  busy  at  their  household  tasks 
within  the  house. 

A  party  of  Dutch  laborers  stopping 
over  night,  ordered  milk  for  their  sup- 
per. Finding  that  it  was  sweet,  the}' 
turned  it  to  curd  with  cider.  At  my 
expressions  of  surprise  at  their  taste, 
Mr.  Donney  informed  me  that  it  was 
the  boast  of  an  orderly  Dutch  house- 
keeper, that  the  bottom  of  her  sour 
krout  and  bonny-clabber  firkins  were 
never  visible 

The  following  Sunday  morning  we 
bade  adieu  to  Saratoga,  and  commenced 
the  homeward  route.  Not  a  specimen 
of  the  male  gender  was  visible  during 
the  day.  The  Erie  canal  had  then  been 
just  commenced,  and  every  man  and  boy 
throughout  the  region,  "had  gone  to  see 
the  canawl."  « 

\Vednesday  we  returned  to  Bosca- 
wen.  Friday  morning  the  journey  was 
resumed,  home  being  reached  Saturday 
evening,  after  an  absence  of  a  month. 
I  came  back  a  new  person,  with  health 
and  strength  completely  restored. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

On  the  evening  of  the  19th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1S16,  occurred  the  great  Goodridge 
sham  robbery.  Major  Elijah  P.  Good- 
ridge  of  Bangor,  Maine,  passed  Pear- 
son's tavern  and  the  Essex  Merrimac 
Bridge  shortly  before  nine  o'clock.  A 
little  over  an  hour  had  elapsed  when  he 
rushed  into  the  toll-house  hatless,  his 


OP  A  NONAGENARIAN. 


301 


clothes  soiled,  one  hand  bloody,  and  in 
an  excited,  incoherent  manner  declared, 
"that  he  had  been  waylaid  by  three 
men  just  over  the  brow  of  the  hill  be- 
yond, who  had  beaten  him  over  the 
head,  fired  at  him  from  a  pistol,  wound- 
ing his  hand,  and  having  dragged  him 
into  the  field  adjoining,  had  there  robbed 
him  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  leaving 
him  senseless  ;  that  upon  consciousness 
returning,  he  had  made  the  best  of  his 
way  back  to  the  island."  Mr.  Pearson 
took  the  Major  into  the  house  and  a 
physician  was  summoned.  The  wound- 
ed man  continued  to  talk  in  a  distracted 
manner  of  being  amongst  thieves  and 
in  a  den  of  robbers,  but  at  length  rec- 
ognized Mr.  William  Potter,  the  driver 
of  the  Eastern  mail  stage  to  Ports- 
mouth, and  requested  him  to  go  to  the 
scene  of  the  outrage  and  search  for  his 
horse  and  effects. 

Mr.  Potter  went,  accompanied  by  sev- 
eral others  with  lanterns.  Just  over 
the  brow  of  the  hill  a  pistol  was  found 
in  the  road ;  a  rail  was  down  in  the 
fence,  and  in  the  gap  a  few  drops  of 
blood  were  seen.  Major  Goodridge's 
pocketbook  lay  open  -under  the  fence, 
with  his  watch,  knife  and  papers  ;  a  rod 
bevond  his  portmanteau,  valise  and 
whip  were  found,  and  thirty-six  dollars 
in  bank  notes  ;  the  handle  of  the  whip 
was  also  spotted  with  blood.  The 
search  for  the  horse  proved  fruitless, 
but  Major  Samuel  Shaw,  coming  from 
Hampton  with  a  baggage  wagon  belong- 
ing to  the  Stage  Company,  soon  after 
passing  the  bridge,  found  that  a  stray 
horse  was  following  his  team,  which  he 
kept  behind  down  High  and  State 
streets  to  the  stable  at  Gilman's  hotel. 
This  stray  horse  was  the  missing  ani- 
mal. 

Dr.  Carter  of  Amesburv  dressed  the 


wounded  hand,  The  patient  talked 
wildly,  and  appeared  in  a  deranged 
slate,  complaining  of  excruciating  pain 
in  his  side  and  in  the  back  of  his  head. 
Doctor  Israel  Balch  was  present  with 
Dr.  Carter.  The  Major  was  put  in  bed 
and  Dr.  Carter  remained  with  him  till 
morning ;  he  was  then  apparently  so 
delirious  that  Mr.  Pearson  called  Dr. 
Richard  S.  Spofford.  That  afternoon 
he  was  taken  to  the  residence  of  Mr. 
John  Pearson,  in  Newburyport.  He 
fainted  on  the  way,  and  continued  de- 
lirious for  two  or  three  days,  when  he 
gradually  grew  better,  and  after  a  while 
was  able  to  go  to  Danvers,  where  his 
friends  resided. 

This  affair  caused  a  furor  of  excite- 
ment. People  feared  to  travel  alone 
after  nightfall.  There  was  a  great  de- 
mand for  sword  canes,  and  a  strict 
watch  was  instituted  for  three  suspi- 
cious individuals.  Upon  his  recovery 
Major  Goodridge  stated,  "that  at  the 
time  of  the  robbery  he  had  upon  his 
person  and  in  his  portmanteau  $1086 
in  bank  notes  and  $669  in  gold  belong- 
ing to  himself;  in  addition,  he  had 
money  sent  by  him  to  pay  over  from 
three  to  five  hundred  dollars.  One 
hundred  and  twenty  was  paid  at  Free- 
port,  thirty  dollars  he  left  in  the  post- 
office  at  Dover  to  go  to  Rochester,  the 
remainder  was  to  be  paid  in  Newbury- 
port." 

As  the  gentleman's  character  was  un- 
impeachable, and  he  ranked  amongst 
the  first  in  business  circles,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  question  his  veracity,  still, 
doubts  respecting  his  story  were  whis- 
pered. At  the  intelligence,  Mr.  Emery 
went  directly  to  the  bridge.  He  said 
little  on  his  return,  only  declared  it  a 
most  singular  robber}'.  As  some  wrap- 
pers to  the  gold  bearing  Major  Good- 


302 


REMINISCENCES 


ridge's  mark  were  picked  up  near  Pear- 
son's tavern,  the  Major  caused  Mr. 
Ebenezer  Pearson,  the  inn-keeper,  to 
be  arrested,  but  as  no  proof  of  guilt 
was  found  he  was  immediately  acquit- 
ted. About  a  week  after,  Major  Good- 
ridge  having  obtained  the  presence  of 
Deputy  Sheriff  Jacob  Coburn,  and  ac- 
companied by  one  Swinnerton,  of  Dan- 
vers,  with  a  divining  rod,  commenced 
a  search  of  the  premises  on  Deer  Island. 
After  a  time  a  bundle  of  soiled  and  torn 
papers  belonging  to  Major  Goodridge 
were  taken  from  the  vault  of  the  privy, 
and  six  pieces  of  gold  wrapped  in  a 
cloth  were  thrown  from  the  snow  back 
of  the  house. 

Mr.  Pearson  was  a  second  time  ar- 
rested, only  to  be  acquitted  with  the 
heartiest  acclamation.  The  old  gentle- 
man, then  seventy  years  of  age,  had 
ever  been  one  of  our  most  respected  and 
esteemed  citizens,  and  the  indignation 
of  the  populace  had  been  aroused  at 
what  was  deemed  an  outrage  upon  one 
of  Mr.  Pearson's  age  and  social  stand- 
ing. At  his  acquittal  this  second  time 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd  assembled 
at  the  court  house  could  scarcely  be  ex- 
pressed. Amid  hilarious  shouts  the  old 
gentleman  was  placed  in  a  coach,  which 
as  it  was  good  sleighing  was  upon  run- 
ners ;  the  horses  were  unharnessed  in  a 
twinkling,  and  a  band  of  young  men 
drew  Mr.  Pearson  the  whole  distance  to 
his  residence,  the  procession  being  aug- 
mented by  a  long  line  of  friends  in 
sleighs. 

Hearing  the  huzzas,  I  ran  to  a  win- 
dow commanding  a  view  down  High 
street.  What  was  coming  I  could  not 
divine  ;  but  on  a  nearer  approach  I  de- 
scried Mr.  Pearson.  The  old  gentle- 
man was  affected  to  tears  ;  and  he  ear- 
nestly strove  to  prevent  this  ovation ; 


but  it  would  have  been  as  easy  to  have 
stayed  a  whirlwind.  Altogether  it  was 
a  most  unique  scene,  a  demonstration 
to  worth  which  was  long  remembered. 

A  person  named  Taber,  and  two 
brothers,  Levi  and  Laban  Kenniston, 
were  next  arrested.  Taber  had  been 
to  Berwick,  and  was  known  to  have 
been  on  the  road  about  the  time  of  the 
robbery.  Some  one  hinted  a  suspicion 
against  him.  which  Major  Goodridge 
eagerly  grasped. 

The  landlord  of  the  Dexter  House 
and  his  son  gave  the  clue  to  the  Ken- 
nistons'  arrest.  The  afternoon  prior  to 
the  supposed  robbery  the  brothers  sta- 
bled their  horse  at  the  tavern.  They 
next  inquired  of  the  landlord's  son.  Mr. 
Samuel  R.  C  aid  well,  if  the}*  could  have 
lodging,  and  at  what  hour  the  house 
was  closed,  then  went  out.  saying  they 
would  take  a  walk.  About  seven 
o'clock  that  evening  Mr.  Sam  Caldwell 
saw  them  near  the  house  in  earnest  con- 
versation with  a  man  he  did  not  know. 
They  did  not  return  that  night,  but  the 
next  morning  came  into  the  stable  and 
inquired  if  their  horse  had  been  watered  ; 
they  then  unhasped  a  door  and  went 
down  under  the  stable.  Mr.  Caldwell 
watched  them  from  a  hole  in  the  floor. 
About  an  hour  after  the  oldest  brother 
went  into  the  house.  At  breakfast  there 
was  much  talk  about  the  robbery.  Levi 
said,  "Well,  I  am  glad  I  wa'nt  there." 
This  farther  aroused  Mr.  Caldwell' s  sus- 
picion, and  he  asked  the  pair  where  they 
had  passed  the  night.  They  replied, 
"at  Mr.  Ephraim  Titcomb's  cellar." 
Upon  this  information,  after  the  guests' 
departure,  Mr.  Sam  Caldwell  went  to 
inquire  of  Mr.  Titcomb  respecting  the 
strangers.  Mr.  Titcomb  knew  the  Ken- 
nistons,  the}7  were  at  his  cellar  the  af- 
ternoon before  the  robbery.  Laban  had 


OF   A 


303 


just  come  from  jail,  and  had  no  mone}T ; 
he  owed  Mr.  Titcomb  for  board,  and 
left  his  bundle  for  security  till  he  should 
pay.  Levi  had  a  turkey  ;  he  said  he 
had  no  money  and  could  not  pa}'  his 
brother's  bill.  The  evening  of  the/rob- 
bery they  were  in  and  out ;  after  supper, 
not  far  from  seven  o'clock,  the}T  went 
out  together  with  one  M'Intire,  and 
were  gone  till  past  ten  o'clock.  The 
following  morning  Mr.  Titcomb  told 
Levi  that  his  brother  could  not  go  away 
until  his  bill  \vas  paid.  Levi  told  Mr. 
Titcomb  to  take  the  turkey ;  he  then 
took  out  a  new  bill  of  the  Newburyport 
Bank,  a  two  or  three  dollar  bill,  and 
Mr.  Titcomb  took  out  what  Laban  owed. 

Mr.  Caldwell,  never  suspecting  but 
that  there  had  been  a  bona-fide  robbery, 
considered  it  his  duty  to  inform  Mr. 
John  Pearson,  at  whose  house  Major 
Goodridge  was  then  stopping,  respect- 
ing these  to  him  suspicious  individuals. 

On  the  4th  of  February,  Maj.  Good- 
ridge  with  a  party  of  friends,  having 
obtained  the  services  of  Samuel  T. 
Leavitt,  a  deputy  sheriff  in  New  Hamp- 
shire, proceeded  to  arrest  Levi  and  La- 
ban  Kenniston,  and  to 'search  their  res- 
idence, which  was  at  the  dwelling  of 
their  father.  Money  in  small  sums  was 
found  in  various  places  in  the  house. 
This  was  claimed  by  different  members 
of  the  family.  After  a  strict  search 
two  doubloons  were  unearthed  in  the  cel- 
lar, under  a  pork  barrel.  One  of  these 
was  enclosed  in  a  wrapper  which  bore  a 
mark  which  Major  Goodridge  claimed 
to  have  put  upon  it  in  Bangor,  and  a 
ten  dollar  bill  of  the  Boston  Bank, 
found  in  a  drawer,  which  Major  Leavitt 
thought  was  counterfeit.  Major  Good- 
ridge also  claimed  it,  showing  his  own 
handwriting  on  the  back,  which  looked 


as  though  an  attempt  had  been  made 
to  erase  it. 

The  circumstantial  evidence  was  so 
strong  against  the  brothers  Kenniston 
that  they  were  held  for  trial,  as  was  also 
the  man  named  Taber. 

Mr.  Joseph  Jackman  of  Newbury- 
port, left  town  for  New  York  on  busi- 
ness, about  a  week  after  the  robbery. 
Major  Goodridge  expressed  his  suspi- 
cions of  him,  and  engaged  Mr.  John 
Pearson  and  his  son  to  write  to  their 
friends  in  New  York  to  have  Mr.  Jack- 
man watched.  He  next  proceeded  to 
New  York,  and  obtained  the  assistance 
of  a  marshal  of  the  city,  a  Mr.  HoA't,  to 
search  Jackman's  room,  when  some 
wrappers  of  gold  which  Major  Good- 
ridge claimed  as  bearing  his  mark,  were 
found  loose  upon  the  floor,  with  some 
old  rubbish  and  papers. 

On  Tuesday,  April  4th,  1817,  Taber 
and  the  brothers  Kenniston  were  brought 
to  trial  at  the  Supreme  court  holden  at 
Ipswich,  before  Hon.  Samuel  Putnam. 
Samuel  L.  Knapp,  esq.,  was  counsel 
for  Tabor.  Daniel  Webster  then  re- 
cently admitted  to  the  bar,  and  the  Hon. 
Joseph  Bartlett  were  counsel  for  the 
Kennistons.  A  motion  was  made  by 
Mr.  Knapp  that  Tabor  might  be  tried 
severally,  which  was  granted.  On 
Thursda}7  morning  the  trial  of  the  Ken- 
nistons commenced. 

Major  Goodridge  testified  to  what  he 
had  previously  stated.  "While  at  Al- 
fred, while  his  baggage  was  being  taken 
in  to  the  inn,  a  person  entered  who  said 
he  was  going  into  the  country  ;  this  man 
he  has  since  had  reason  to  suppose  was 
Taber." 

"After  he  went  to  Danvers  he  was 
endeavoring  to  pick  up  ever}*  circum- 
stance that  might  be  a  clue  to  the  rob- 
bery. There  he  had  the  first  notice 


304 


REMINISCENCES 


about  Taber  from  John  Page,  who  re- 
ferred him  to  one  M'Kinstoy  for  a  more 
particular  description ;  met  M'Kinstry 
at  Breed's  in  I/vnn,  who  particularly 
described  Taber,  and  told  him  he  might 
be  found  in  Boston,  and  advised  witness 
to  arrest  him  by  all  means,  as  he  had 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  was  guilty. 
After  being  in  Boston  two  or  three  days, 
witness  went  out  to  find  Taber ;  met 
with  him  there  near  Boy  den's,  a  little 
west  of  the  market,  offering  some  hair 
combs  to  a  person ;  judged  it  was  he 
from  description ;  he  had  a  mark  a 
scar  under  his  63*6 ;  inquired  if  his 
name  was  Taber ;  he  said  3~es ;  asked 
him  to  step  into  the  house  ;  he  declined 
and  proposed  going  back  into  the  yard. 
Witness  inquired  of  Tabor  whether  he 
was  acquainted  with  the  people  about 
the  bridge  ;  Tabor  said  he  could  point 
out  the  robbers,  that  he  had  formed  his 
opinion  who  they  were.  Pressed  him 
hard  to  disclose  ;  he  said  if  he  should 
tell  what  he  knew  about  it,  it  would  be 
more  than  his  life  was  worth,  those  per- 
sons would  kill  him.  Before  parting 
he  said  he  would  for  three  hundred  dol- 
lars tell  all  he  knew,  but  did  not  say 
how  much  that  was.  Witness  then 
went  to  Mr.  P>ench,  who  was  to  furnish 
the  mone}-  and  consulted  with  him  ;  had 
agreed  to  meet  Taber  at  a  place  ap- 
pointed on  the  Monday  following  ;  Ta- 
ber did  not  keep  his  engagement,  and 
avoided  meeting  the  witness  ;  was  there 
advised  by  his  friends  to  disguise  him- 
self, which  he  did  in  the  dress  of  a  sail- 
or, and  went  in  the  evening  with  Capt. 
Silsbee  and  Mr.  Jones  to  find  Taber ; 
after  finding  him  and  conversing  with 
him  alone,  he  consented  to  give  the 
names  of  those  who  had  committed  the 
robbery  for  four  hundred  dollars,  and 
trusted  to  the  honor  of  the  witness  to 


pa}-  if  the  information  should  prove  true  ; 
witness  then  went  to  consult  Silsbee  and 
Jones  ;  afterwards  went  to  Tabor,  and 
he  gave  the  names  of  a  number  of  per- 
sons who  had  been  concerned  in  the 
robbeiy  ;  he  said  the  prisoners  were  two 
of  them,  and  now  had  part  of  the  mone}* 
if  the3*  had  not  spent  it ;  told  where 
the3'  resided.  Witness  thought  it  best 
to  begin  the  investigation  with  the  pris- 
oners, as  they  were  the  least  artful ; 
went  on  to  Danvers  with  Mr.  French  ; 
informed  Mr.  Page,  who  consented  to 
go  and  assist  in  searching  the  Kennis- 
tons  ;  French  and  witness  then  went  on 
to  Hampton,  and  remained  concealed  at 
Langmaid's ;  sent  for  Mr.  John  Pike 
and  emplo3'ed  him  to  go  to  Newmarket 
and  ascertain  whether  the  Kennistons 
were  at  home  ;  after  he  returned,  got  a 
warrant,  sent  for  Major  Leavitt,  a  good 
officer,  and  earl}*  in  the  morning  went 
with  him  and  Mr.  Towle  and  arrested 
the  Kennistons  at  their  house.  After 
securing  the  prisoners,  proceeded  to 
make  a  thorough  search  through  the 
whole  house  ;  found  some  gold  ;  heard 
Major  Leavitt  sa}-  he  had  found  a  coun- 
terfeit bill  in  a  drawer  in  a  room  at  the 
north  part  of  the  house  ;  witness  had  not 
been  in  that  room  before  Major  Leavitt 
went  in.  After  finishing  the  search 
the3'  went  with  the  prisoners  to  Major 
Coffin's  house,  about  three  miles.  There 
Major  Leavitt  took  out  of  his  pocket- 
book  a  ten-dollar  Boston  bill  which  the 
Major  had  thought  counterfeit.  On  ex- 
amining«it  witness  saw  the  writing  on 
the  back  of  it,  "James  Poor,  Bangor,-" 
and  knew  the  bill ;  it  was  a  good  one  ; 
there  appeared  to  have  been  an  attempt 
to  erase  the  writing." 

Major  Goodridge  said  "he  had  the 
bill  with  him  when  he  was  robbed  ;  knew 
it  b3T  the  words  on  the  back  of  it  in  his 


OF   A 


305 


own  handwriting ;  received  it  about  a 
week  before  he  left  Bangor  ;  never  saw 
it  after  he  enclosed  it  with  his  other 
bills  in  a  piece  of  cambric  handkerchief 
till  he  saw  it  at  Major  Coffin's." 

The  search  at  the  Kennistons  contin- 
ued a  long  time  before  anything  except 
the  counterfeit  bill  and  some  parcels  of 
silver  money  were  found  ;  witness  hap- 
pening to  open  a  door>  saw  a  boy  and 
girl  climbing  on  a  bed ;  they  started 
when  they  saw  him  -r  he  called  the  offi- 
cer, and  told  him  he  had  better  search 
the  bed ;  Majors  Coffin,  Upton  and 
Goodridge  went  in,  saw  a  pair  of  pan- 
taloons hanging  up  over  the  bed,  which 
the  boy  and  girl  seemed  to  be  aiming 
at ;  took  the  pantaloons  down  and 
found  in  them  some  silver  and  a  doub- 
loon without  any  paper  on  it ;  this  gave 
new  spirits,  and  the  search  was  contin- 
ued more  closely  ;  some  were  searching 
in  the  cellar  ;  took  down  the  loose  stones 
of  the  wall,  dug  in  the  sand  at  the  bot- 
tom, turned  over  the  potatoes  and 
moved  the  barrels.  Upton  suddenly 
called  and  said,  'Here,  I  have  found 
the  whole  hoard  !'  and  showed  a  doub- 
loon which  he  had  scratched  up  where 
a  pork  barrel  had  stood.  Maj.  Leavitt 
picked  up  another ;  one  of  the  doub- 
loons had  9,  wrapper  with  witness'  fig- 
ures on  it,  which  he  made  at  Bangor. 
By  this  time  the  neighbors  had  collect- 
ed, and  helped  search  the  house  criti- 
cally ;  searched  it  throughout ;  nothing 
else  material  was  found  except  a  quan- 
tity of  silver  dollars  in  a  tin  dish,  in  a 
case  of  drawers  ;  thinks  from  twenty  to 
forty,  but  did  not  count  them — the  pris- 
oners said  the  money,  was  not  theirs. 
The  prisoners  were  carried  before  a 
magistrate.  Some  time  after,  some  of 
the  wrappers  of  the  gold  with  the  wit- 
ness' figures  were  found  at  Mr.  Pear- 

39 


son's,  at  the  bridge,  in  a  vault  of  the 
privy,  some  of  them  very  much  defaced  ; 
some  also  were  found  at  New  York  with 
Joseph  Jackman,  and  a  receipt  torn  up 
small ;  could  identify  one  with  his  own 
name  and  the  name  of  the  receipter, 
Thomas  Curtis,  of  Boston,  which  he 
had  about  him  when  robbed  ;  before  he 
left  Bangor  put  up  his  papers  and  took 
man}*  receipts  for  the  purpose  of  settling 
with  people  in  Boston ;  had  left  the 
pieces  of  papers  at  New  York  with  the 
police  officer ;  Jackman  was  one  named 
by  Taber,  and  in  consequence  of  that 
information  he  had  arrested  Jackman." 

It  was  proved  that  Taber  returned 
from  his  journey  to  Berwick,  and  had 
been  incarcerated  in  the  jail  in  Boston 
for  debt  on  the  12th  of  December,  and 
though  he  obtained  bail  for  liberty  of 
the  jail -yard,  he  was  confined  within 
the  jail  limits  at  the  time  of  the  alleged 
robbeiy.  Accordingly  the  Solicitor 
General  entered  a  nolle  pros  on  indict- 
ment against  Taber,  and  he  was  sworn 
as  a  witness. 

Taber  testified  "that  this  was  the 
first  time  he  ever  saw  Major  Goodridge 
except  at  the  examination  in  Newbury- 
port.  No  person  ever  came  to  him  in 
disguise  in  Boston,  and  he  never  had 
seen  the  Kennistons  till  that  day." 

William  Jones  of  Boston  testified  that 
"he  was  present  when  Major  Goodridge 
conversed  with  a  man  who  was  under- 
stood to  be  Taber ;  he  was  dressed  in  a 
light  surtout."  It  was  proved  that  Ta- 
ber did  not  own  and  had  never  worn 
such  a  garment. 

The  silver  and  paper  money  were  ac- 
counted for  by  Aaron  Kenniston,  the 
father  of  the  prisoners  ;  he  had  no  gold 
in  the  house.  He  gave  Levi  the  two- 
dollar  bill,  out  of  which  he  settled  with 


306 


REMINISCENCE  S 


Mr.  Titcomb  when  his  son  went  to 
Newburyport. 

It  was  proved  that  Major  Goodridge 
was  in  the  cellar  at  the  Kenuiston's 
taking  down  the  wall,  when  the  gold 
was  found  under  the  barrel,  and  Sheriff 
Upton  thought  that  Major  Goodridge 
first  called  attention  to  the  pantaloons 
where  the  first  doubloon  was  found ; 
but  Major  Leavitt  thought  Major  Good- 
ridge had  not  entered  the  room  where 
he  found  the  marked  bill. 

Doctor  Israel  Balch  was  present  with 
Dr.  Carter.  "He  observed  when  he 
looked  at  the  patient  the  patient  looked 
awa}' ;  he  saw  no  wounds  on  his  head 
or  side  ;  the  pupils  of  his  eyes  were  di- 
lated a  little,  thought  it  might  be  owing 
to  the  darkness  of  the  room ;  thought 
he  was  not  deranged  but  pla3'ing  the 
crazy  man.  He  said  he  could  riot  move 
himself  in  bed,  but  when  he  thought  he 
was  alone,  the  Doctor  saw  him  rise  up, 
place  his  earlocks  and  forelock  in  order, 
throw  out  his  right  arm,  expectorate 
and  spit  in  the  fire.  Hearing  a  noise, 
he  laid  dewn.  covered  himself  up,  and 
began  to  talk  incoherently." 

David  Lawrence  testified  that  he  was 
at  Mrs.  Martin's,  in  company  with  Jo- 
seph Jackmau,  from  7  to  9  o'clock,  on 
the  evening  of  the  19th  of  December. 
Mrs.  Ann  Martin  and  Miss  Fanny 
Griffin  corroborated  this  statement. 

The  examination  closed  at  10  o'clock 
on  Friday  morning.  Mr.  Webster's  ar- 
gument for  the  prisoners,  and  that  of 
the  Solicitor  General  for  the  common- 
wealth, with  the  charge  of  the  judge, 
was  closed  about  5  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. On  Saturday  morning,  at  the 
opening  of  the  court,  a  verdict  of  not 
guilty  was-  returned,  and  the  prisoners 
were  discharged. 

Though  Mr.  Joseph  Jackmau  proved 


his  presence  at  the  house  of  his  neigh- 
bor Mrs.  Martin,  on  the  night  of  the 
19th  of  December,  as  the  wrappers  and 
torn  receipt  were  taken  from  his  room 
in  New  York,  he  was  brought  to  trial 
at  Salem  November,  1817.  Andrew 
Dunlap  esq.,  of  Salem,  and  Ebenezer 
Mosely  esq.,  of  Xewbuiyport,  were  his 
counsel.  At  this  trial  the  jury  could 
not  agree,  and  the  case  was  a  second 
time  brought  up  at  the  April  term. 
The  indictment  read  as  follows  : 

"At  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  of 
the  Commonwaelth  of  Massachusetts, 
begun  and  holden  at  Ipswich,  within 
and  for  the  said  county  of  Essex,  on  the 
4th  Tuesday  of  April,  in  the  year  of 
our.  Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eighteen,  the  jurors  for  the  said 
Commonwealth,  upon  their  oath,  pres- 
ent, that  Joseph  Jackmau,  resident  in 
Xewburyport,  in  said  county  of  Essex, 
trader,  on  the  nineteenth  da}*  of  Decem- 
ber, 1816,  at  Xewbuiy,  in  the  said 
county  of  Essex,  neither  was  with  force 
of  arms,  nor  with  force  and  violence, 
but  Elijah  P.  Goodridge.  with  force  and 
violence,  shot  his  own  hand  with  his 
own  pocket  pistol  without  the  least 
doubt,  then  passed  the  village,  for  the 
place  is  now  called  Shamhill,  and  Essex 
Merrimac  Bridge.  Then  E.  P.  Good- 
ridge threw  the  same  pistol  into  the 
river ;  that  must  be  his  object  in  going 
over  to  Mr.  Pearson's,  he  could  not 
have  any  other  object.  Elijah  P.  Good- 
ridge, in  the  said  peace  of  the  said  Com- 
monwealth, then  and  there  being,  felon- 
iously did  put  sundry  bank  bills  to  the 
amount  of  830  in  the  field ;  and  laid 
some  small  change,  and  one  or  more 
pieces  of  gold,  and  a  very  new  gold 
watch  carefully  placed  under  the  fence 
— all  was  supposed  to  have  been  done 
by  the  hand  of  said  Elijah.  There  Eli- 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


307 


jahP.  Goodridge  did  rob  himself  against 
the  said  peace  of  the  said  Common- 
wealth, and  contrary  to  the  form  of  the 
statute  in  such  case  made  and  provided." 

Thursday  morning  at  ten  o'clock  the 
jury  were  empaneled  for  the  trial.  The 
jurors  were  Stephen  Barker,  Andover, 
foreman  ;  David  Emery,  Newbury  ;  Gib- 
bins  Adams,  Newbury  ;  James  Darling, 
Beverly  ;  Nathaniel  Hawkes,  Saugus  ; 
Joseph  Tufts,  Danvers  ;  James  Abbot, 
Andover ;  Benjamin  Hawes,  Salem ; 
Amos  Burnham,  Ipswich ;  Benjamin 
Foster,  Manchester  ;  Jacob  Greenleaf, 
Newbury  port ;  the  judge,  Hon.  Charles 
Jackson,  counsel  for  the  Common- 
wealth ;  Hon.  Daniel  Davis,  solicitor 
general ;  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  Hon. 
Daniel  Webster,  Boston ;  Ebenezer 
Moseley  esq. ,  Newburyport ;  Andrew 
Dunlap  esq.,  Salem. 

The  excitement,  which  from  its  com- 
mencement this  remarkable  incident  had 
aroused,  had  at  this  time  become  in- 
tense. Mr.  Jackman  had  hosts  of 
friends,  and  the  sympathy  of  the  com- 
munity,  but  Major  Goodridge  also  pos- 
sessed many  friends,  who  would  not  for 
a  moment  entertain  the  idea  that  he 
could  have  perpetrated  such  a  tremen- 
dous fraud  as  a  sham  robbery. 

Major  Goodridge  reiterated  his  for- 
mer statement  of  the  robbery,  and  of 
his  finding  the  wrappers  and  receipt  in 
Jackman's  room.  The  papers  were  pro- 
duced and  exemplified.  Jackman  claimed 
the  papers  as  his.  Major  Goodridge 
had  stated  that  he  drew  the  charge  from 
his  pistols  every  da}-  on  his  journey. 
Webster  called  for  the  pistols  and  in- 
quired for  the  old  ramrods  that  were  in 
them  at  the  time  of  the  Kennistons'  trial' 
The  Major  replied  that  they  were  worn 
out  and  broken.  Webster  then  inquired 
what  had  become  of  the  worms  or  screws 


that  were  on  the  old  rods.  The  reply 
was,  "There  was  none."  At  which 
Webster  exclaimed,  "Do  you  undertake 
to  say  that  you  drew  the  charges  every 
day  on  your  journey  without  a  worm  or 
screw  !"  Goodridge  was  at  a  loss  what 
to  say,  but  at  length  replied,  "he  be- 
lieved there  was  a  screw  on  one  of  the 
rods.  He  bought  the  pistols  eight  or 
nine  years  ago  ;  for  the  last  three  years 
no  one  had  seen  them,  as  he  feared  per- 
sons would  borrow  them  to  fight  duels." 
This  was  disproved  by  Mr.  Eleazer 
Wyer  of  Portland,  who  testified  to  sell- 
ing Major  Goodridge  the  pistols  while 
he  was  stopping  at  Burnham's  Hotel  on 
his  journey  from  Bangor.  The  remain- 
der of  the  witness'  testimony  was  sim- 
ilar to  that  at  the  Kennistons'  trial. 
The  examination  of  witnesses  over,  Mr. 
Webster  commenced  his  address  to  the 
jury.  This  was  one  of  his  most  master- 
ly efforts,  one  which  those  who  were 
present  always  referred  to  with  pride 
and  admiration.  He  proved  that  it  was 
impossible  for  either  of  the  accused  par- 
ties to  have  been  on  the  spot  at  the 
time  of  the  alleged  robbery.  The  two 
wagons  driven  by  Shaw  and  Keyser, 
and  the  mail  stage,  must  have  passed 
within  three  rods  of  Goodridge  at  the 
time  he  describes  the  robbery  was  tak- 
ing place.  The  bullet  went  through 
the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  He  might  in- 
tend it  should  have  gone  through  noth- 
ing else.  It  was  quite  certain  he  could 
not  have  received  the  wound  in  his  hand 
in  the  way  he  described.  There  was 
not  the  least  mark  of  beating  and 
wounding.  The  blow  on  the  head  which 
brought  him  senseless  to  the  ground 
neither  broke  the  skin  nor  left  an}-  mark 
whatever.  He  fell  from  his  horse  on 
frozen  ground,  without  any  appearance 
of  injury.  He  was  drawn  through  or 


308 


KEMINnSCENCES 


over  a  rail  fence  "with  such  force  as  to 
break  the  rail,  but  not  at  all  to  leave 
any  wound  or  scratch  on  him.  A  sec- 
ond time  he  was  knocked  down,  kicked, 
stamped  upon,  choked,  and  in  every 
way  abused  and  beaten  till  sense  had 
departed  and  the  breath  of  life  hardly 
remained,  and  }Tet  no  wound,  bruise, 
or  discoloration,  or  mark  of  injury,  was 
found  to  result  from  all  this.  Look  to 
the  appearance  of  the  field.  The  port- 
manteau was  there,  the  straps  which 
fastened  it  to  the  saddle  were  carefully 
unbuckled.  This  was  very  considerate 
.for  robbers.  It  had  been  opened  and 
its  contents  were  scattered  about  the 
field.  The  pocketbook,  too,  had  been 
opened,  and  many  papers  it  contained 
scattered  on  the  ground.  Nothing  val- 
uable was  lost  but  money,, and  the 
money  belonging  to  other  persons  was 
not  taken  ;  the  robbers  found  out  that 
it  was  not  the  prosecutor's  and  left  it. 
His  watch  was  safe  under  the  fence,  the 
seal  laid  carefully  on  the  grass  ;  the 
timekeeper  had  not  even  ceased  ticking. 
Had  Major  Goodridge  the  money  with 
him  that  he  mentions  ?  If  so,  his  clerks 
or  persons  connected  with  him  in  busi- 
ness must  have  known  it,  3*et  no  wit- 
ness was  produced.  Nothing  could  be 
more  important  than  to  prove  that  he 
had  the  mone}",  yet  he  did  not  prove  it. 
Fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  prisoner  with 
a  glance  that  caused  him  to  quail  with 
conscious  guilt,  Mr.  Webster  ended  this 
memorable  harangue  by  a  burst  of  elo- 
quence scarcely  equalled  in  the  annals 
of  jurisprudence. 

The  case  was  closed,  and  the  jury  re- 
tired the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon. 
Eleven  were  unanimous  for  the  verdict 
of  no  robbery  ;  Mr.  Hawkes  of  Saugus 
alone  dissented.  The  evidence  was 
conned  and  discussed  until  a  late  hour, 


but  without  avail.  Provoked  and  weary, 
the  eleven  at  length  desisted  from  far- 
ther argument,  and  several  lighted  ci- 
gars. Tobacco  smoke  was  anno3'iug  to 
Mr.  Hawkes — seeing  its  effect,  the  ma- 
jority  caught  the  cue  ;  ever3T  one  'took  a 
cigar  ;  a  fresh  box  of  Havanas  were  or- 
dered, and  soon  the  room  was  suffocat- 
ing. The  obstinate  juror  begged  hard 
for  air,  but  not  a  breath  was  admitted. 
"Would  he  unite  on  the  verdict?'' 
"No."  Puff,  puff,  went  the  cigars,  I 
believe  one  of  the  gentlemen  managed 
to  smoke  two  at  once.  The  air  grew 
chokingby  dense  ;  tears  rose  to  the  smok- 
ers' 63-68.  Mr.  Emery  said  he  could 
not  have  borne  it  much  longer  himself, 
when  the  obstinate  dissenter  succumbed, 
fairly  smoked  into  acquiescence.  Win- 
dows were  thrown  open,  and  the  jaded 
men  refreshed  themselves  b\  a  bath  and 
breakfast.  The  court  opened  at  the 
usual  hour  when  the  verdict  was  ren- 
dered. 

Thus  ended  the  great  Goodridge  case, 
one  that  had  caused  more  distress  and 
expense  than  scarceby  any  other  upon 
record.  For  a  time  it  destroyed  the 
happiness  of  several  households  ;  inno- 
cent men  were  held  in  durance,  and  at 
the  Jackman  trial  in  Salem  one  of  the 
jurors  lost  his  life.  A  tumbler  was 
broken  on  a  tra3T  of  refreshments 
brought  from  the  hotel  to  the  court- 
house, and  the  unfortunate  man  swal- 
lowed a  piece  of  the  glass,  which  sev- 
ered the  jugular  vein,  causing  death  in 
a  short  time. 

The  only  plea  in  extenuation  for 
Major  Goodridge  is  that  in  those  days 
a  failure  in  business  was  much  more  of 
a  disgrace  than  at  present.  "Being 
broke,"  was  something  difficult  to  sur- 
mount. Finding  himself  in  a  financial 
dilemma,  the  Major  concocted  this  plan 


OF   A 


309 


to  settle  his  affairs  ;  but  he  overshot  the 
mark.  I  believe  he  went  South  ;  but 
wherever  his  sojourn,  he  must  have  been 
the  victim  of  remorse,  for  the  fatal  mis- 
take that  ruined  his  worldly  career. 

Immediately  after  the  verdict  of  a 
sham  robbery  had  been  rendered,  a  gib- 
bet was  erected  on  the  hill  where  it  had 
been  represented  to  have  occurred,  and 
Major  Goodridge  was  hung  in  effigy. 
This  gibbet  remained  many  years,  but 
at  length  fell  to  pieces  from  the  decay 
of  age. 


CHAPTER  LX. 

On  March  31st,  1818,  the  Essex  Ag- 
ricultural Society  was  formed  ;  it  was 
incorporated  on  June  12th.  Mr.  Em- 
ery was  among  those  who  formed  this 
society,  his  certificate  of  membership 
reads : 

-  "Received  payment  by  the  hand  of 
Robert  Dodge,  the  assessment  of  three 
dollars,  for  the  Essex  Agricultural  So- 
ciety for  David  Emery. 

ICHABOD  TUCKER,  Treasurer. 

May  6th,  1818." 

Both  Col.  Colman  and  Major  Emery 
were  enthusiastic  and  untiring  in  for- 
warding the  concerns  of  this  society, 
and  both  were  active  on  duty  at  its  an- 
nual cattle  shows,  until  failing  health 
and  the  infirmities  of  age  prevented  ; 
but  to  the  latest  hour  of  their  long  lives 
their  interest  in  the  advancement  of  the 
society  was  maintained  ;  that  society 
which  in  company  with  kindred  spirits 
they  had  formed,  when  the  improve- 
ment of  stock,  and  science  as  applied 
to  agriculture,  had  scarcely  attracted  a 
thought  throughout  our  rural  commiin- 
it}~ ;  a  band  of  men  whose  memory  Es- 
sex county  may  recall  with  pride,  all  of 
whom  have  now  passed  to  the  green 


pastures  and  still  waters  of  the  celestial 
land. 

The  following  winter  our  family  circle 
was  enlivened  by  the  presence  of  Uncle 
Samuel  Smith,  who  with  his  wife  came 
to  pay  a  farewell  visit  prior  to  their  em- 
igration to  Ohio. 

My  grandmother  had  died  suddenly 
the  September  previous.  Though  Mr. 
Smith  had  become  a  distinguished 
preacher  of  the  Methodist  circuit,  his 
mother  never  tolerated  his  change  of 
faith.  I  could  not  but  rejoice  that  she 
had  gone  to  rest  without  being  disqui- 
eted b}r  this  Western  scheme. 

Uncle  Sam  was  enthusiastic  in  the 
prospect  of  sowing  the  seed  of  truth  in 
the  new  country  now  being  fast  re- 
claimed from  the  wilderness,  and  his 
wife  was.  as  hopeful  and  ambitious  for 
her  husband  and  family  as  she  had  been 
on  their  removal  to  Vermont.  After  a 
sojourn  of  several  weeks,  they  bade 
their  New  England  relatives  and  friends 
a  final  adieu,  for  though  both  lived  to 
an  advanced  age,  neither  ever  revisited 
their  birthplace.  That  spring  the  fam- 
ily became  located  on  a  farm  upon  the 
Little  Sciota  river,  not  far  from  Chili- 
cothe. 

In  the  April  of  1818  Mr.  Joshua  Pills- 
bury  came  from  Boscawen  and  assumed 
the  care  of  his  ancestral  acres,  being 
the  seventh  in  descent  from  William 
Pillsbury,  who  came  to  Newbury  in 
1651.  We  moved  to  the  house  on  the 
lower  side  of  High  street,  second  above 
Kent,  which  had  been  built  by  Mr. 
William  Swain,  but  was  then  owned  by 
Mr.  Abner  Wood.  Mr.  Emeiy  hired 
the  field  opposite,  to  which  his  slaugh- 
ter-house and  piggeries  were  drawn. 
In  a  few  weeks  he  purchased  this  lot  of 
Mr.  Allen  Dodge  and  Mr.  Joseph  Top- 
pan  for  $500. 


310 


KEMESTISCE^CES 


The  next  year  he  erected  a  large  barn 
upon  the  hill.  In  addition  to  the  usual 
appliances  of  a  stable,  a  chimney  was 
built  at  the  lower  end,  and  a  room  light- 
ed by  three  windows  was  finished.  This 
apartment  had  a  fireplace,  a  large  set 
kettle,  and  a  good  sized  closet ;  a  trap 
door  opened  upon  stairs  leading  to  the 
cellar  beneath,  in  which  was  a  wooden 
cistern,  a  purnp  above  furnishing  the 
premises  with  water.  This  room  was 
for  the  convenience  of  packing  beef  and 
trying  lard,  two  branches  of  business  in 
which  Mr.  Emery  was  largely  engaged. 
Mr.  Babb  was  still  our  factotum.  John 
Faris  and  Mr.  Michael  Crease}-  were 
the  regular  butchers,  but  Mr.  Paul  Lunt 
of  Belleville,  Mr.  Stephen  EmeiT  and 
his  son  Moody,  and  Mr.  Jonas  Bartlett 
from  the  lower  parish  in  West  Xew- 
bury,  were  often  employed.  Not  un- 
frequently  from  fifteen  to  twenty  hands 
were  at  work,  and  as  many  as  twenty 
beeves'  carcases  would  be  weighed  off 
at  once.  The  field  below  the  buildings 
was  fenced  for  a  sheep  pasture  ;  a  hun- 
dred head  were  often  collected  there. 
Three  wagons  were  run  to  supply  town 
customers,  the  barreled  beef  and  pork 
supplied  the  fishing  fleet  and  outward- 
bound  vessels,  and  the  surplus  was  sold 
in  Boston. 

In  1822  Mr.  Creasey  having  estab- 
lished himself  in  business,  his  place  was 
filled  by  Mr.  Henry  Mowatt.  That 
spring,  nvy  youngest  brother,  Joseph 
Little  Smith,  came  to  Newburyport,Fand 
in  compan}-  with  Mr.  Emery  established 
a  wholesale  and  retail  grocery  store  on 
Market  square,  at  the  upper  corner  of 
Inn  street.  This  was  the  depot  for 
Mr.  Emery's  beef  and  pork  trade.  My 
brother  boarded  in  our  family. 

There  were  a  number  of  fruit  trees 
on  the  lot  Mr.  Emery  had  bought ;  he 


planted  others,  and  the  elm  back  of  the 
house,  and  commenced  other  improve- 
ments preparatory  to  the  erection  of  a 
house.  The  elm  near  the  barn  was  set 
out  several  years  after  by  Robert  Pea- 
body  while  an  inmate  of  the  family. 
The  next  year  he  purchased  the  field 
between  his  lot  and  Mount  Rural.  This 
had  formed  part  of  the  estate  of  the  late 
Daniel  Farnham  esq.,  by  whom  it  had 
been  bequeathed  to  his  daughters,  Mrs. 
Sybil  Sawyer  and  Mrs.  Catharine  Flag, 
who  sold  it  to  Mr.  Emery  for  8650. 

"Squire  Farnham  had  formerly  owned 
the  whole  of  that  end  of  the  ridge. 
The  first  wife  of  Dr.  Smith  of  Mt.  Ru- 
ral was  another  of  his  daughters.  In 
1820,  by  the  death  of  his  father,  my 
husband's  namesake,  David  Emer}' Col- 
man,  a  boy  of  six  years,  was  left  an  or- 
phan. Mr.  Emeiy  took  him  into  the 
family  ;  he  was  a  handsome,  bright  lit- 
tle lad,  and  he  remained  with  us  till  his 
twelfth  }'ear,  when  he  was  put  on  the 
farm  of  Mr.  Thomas  Chase  in  West 
Newbuiy. 

In  Ma}r,  1819,  my  Aunt  Bartlett  was 
married  to  Capt.  Joseph  O'Brian.  Cap- 
tains Joseph  and  John  O'Brian  were  of 
Irish  descent,  their  father  emigrated  to 
America  and  settled  in  Machias,  dis- 
trict of  Maine.  Both  of  the  sons  were 
successful  shipmasters  and  merchants. 
Capt.  John  O'Brian,  as  I  have  previ- 
ously stated,  distinguished  himself  in 
the  privateer  Hibernia  during  the  war 
of  1812.  Capt.  John  O'Brian  married 
Hannah  Toppan  ;  their  children  were 
Jeremiah,  John,  Hannah  and  Marcia 
Scott.  Hannah  became  the  third  wife 
of  her  cousin  Joseph  O'Brian.  Marcia 
married  Rev.  Dr.  Jeremiah  Chaplin, 
president  of  WatervUie  College,  Maine. 
Both  of  these  ladies  were  authors  of 
some  celebrity. 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


311 


John  O'Brian  Chaplin  was  professor 
of  Greek,  Latin  and  English  literature 
at  Columbian  College,  Washing. ton,  1) 
C.  Hannah  Chaplin  married  Kev. 
Thomas  Jefferson  Conant  of  Brandon, 
Vt. ,  employed  by  the  American  Bible 
Union  of  New  York,  in  translating  the 
Bible  ;  professor  in  Rochester  Univer- 
sity until  1857  ;  formerly  professor  at 
Waterville  and  at  Madison  University. 

Captain  Joseph  O'Brian's  first  wife 
was  Rebecca,  daughter  of  David  and 
Mary  (Johnson)  Moody.  Their  chil- 
dren were  David,  AVilliarn,  and  others 
deceased  before  1812 — Dennis,  Joseph, 
Thomas  and  Valeria. 

The  O'Brians  were  of  a  highly  distin- 
guished race,  a  great  Milesian  family 
of  the  name  who  descended  from  the 
Kings  of  Thomond.  Arms,  Gules,  three 
lions  proper,  or.  Crest,  a  naked  arm 
embowered,  the  hand  grasping  a  sword 
all  ppr.  Motto — "Vigueur  der  des- 
sus"  "Strength  from  above." 

Capt.  Joseph  O'Brian  having  lost  his 
residence  on  Water  street  at  the  great 
fire,  had  purchased  the  house  on  High 
street,  built  by  Capt.  Samuel  Swett, 
who  had  moved  to  Georgetown,  D.  C. 
As  the  Baptist  meeting-house  was  lo- 
cated 'so  far  to'  the  north  end,  Capt. 
O'Brian,  being  a  zealous  Jacobin,  had 
taken  a  pew  in  the  house  of  worship  on 
Harris  street.  For  many  years  Mrs. 
Bartlett  had  been  connected  with  the 
First  Presbyterian  church,  and  she  high- 
ly respected  and  esteemed  its  pastor, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Dana ;  but  for  some  rea- 
son Capt.  O'Brian  objected  to  his  per- 
forming the  marriage  ceremony.  Mrs. 
Bartlett  was  equally  averse  to  Parson 
Giles.  After  much  discussion  the  pair 
agreed  to  disagree,  and  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Morse  was  called  to  tie  the  nuptial  knot 
according  to  the  ritual  of  the  Episcopal 


church.  Mrs.  O'Brian,  however,  like 
a  dutiful  wife,  ever  after  attended  on 
Parson  Giles'  ministrations  with  her 
husband  and  family. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year  the  west 
part  of  Newbmy  was  set  off  into  a  sep- 
arate township,  and  incorporated  by 
the  name  of  Parsons,  which  was  soon 
changed  to  that  of  West  Newbury. 

In  the  same  }*ear  Col.  Jeremiah  Col- 
man  succeeded  Mr.  Benjamin  Hale  as 
agent  for  the  Eastern  Stage  Compan}T, 
an  office  which  he  filled  until  the  open- 
ing of  the  Eastern  railroad.  Soon  after 
accepting  the  agency  Col.  Colman  pur- 
chased the  house  built  by  Mr.  Obadiah 
Pearson,  on  Harris  street,  and  moved 
thither.  The  business  at  the  market 
was  continued  by  Mr.  Daniel  Colman, 
who  bought  the  residence  on  the  turn- 
pike, where  he  became  a  prominent  cit- 
izen of  Newbury,  and  an  influential 
member  t)f  Oldtown  parish.  For  many 
years  he  was  a  selectman  of  the  town, 
one  of  the  overseers  of  the  poor,  and 
the  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath  school 
connected  with  the  society,  under  the 
pastorate  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Withington. 
In  addition  he  was  often  called  to  fill 
posts  of  trust  and  honor  outside  of  his 
town  and  parish.  The  latter  part  of 
his  life  was  passed  on  the  ancestral 
farm  in  By  field.  Col.  Jeremiah  Colman 
was  also  an  active  member  of  the  Old- 
town  society,  filling  the  office  of  deacon 
for  several  years. 

The  next  3'ear,  1820,  the  navigation 
law  was  passed,  which  restricted  ves- 
sels from  taking  cargoes  to  the  British 
colonies,  and  from  bringing  cargoes  to 
our  ports.  As  Newburj-port  had  a 
large  eastern  trade,  this  proved  ex- 
tremely injurious  to  our  shipping  inter- 
est. In  addition,  the  exorbitant  duties 
imposed  by  France  and  other  conti- 


312 


REMINISCENCES 


nental  nations  on  American  goods  and 
tonnage  greatly  depressed  the  maritime 
enterprise  of  the  place. 

Capt.  John  Murra}*  Milthnore,  the 
youngest  son  of  the  Rev.  James  Mild- 
more,  at  this  time  commanded  the  ship 
Jane.  On  arriving  at  Bordeaux  from 
Norfolk,  to  his  consternation  he  learned 
that  a  duty  of  818  per  ton  had  been 
imposed,  an  amount  which  the  full  val- 
ue of  both  vessel  and  cargo  would 
scarcely  cover.  In  this  dilemma  Capt. 
Miltimore  proceeded  immediately  to 
Paris  to  la}-  the  case  before  the  Ameri- 
can consul,  and  Mr.  Albert  Gallatin, 
our  minister  to  the  Court  of  St.  Cloud. 
The  matter  was  carried  before  the  gov- 
ernment, and  the  dut}'  on  Capt.  Milti- 
inore's  ship  was  removed  and  the  law 
greatly  modified.  That  same  year  a 
piratical  fleet  appeared  in  the  West  In- 
dian waters,  which  for  several  years 
continued  the  terror  of  the  sea. 

The  winter  of  1820  and  1821  was  re- 
markably cold.  The  river  was  passa- 
ble for  the  heaviest  teams  on  the  ice 
from  Haverhill  to  Black  Rocks.  China 
cups  cracked  on  the  tea  table  from  the 
frost,  before  a  rousing  fire,  the  instant 
the  hot  tea  touched  them ;  and  plates 
set  to  drain  in  the  process  of  dish-wash- 
ing froze  together  in  front  of  the  huge 
logs,  ablaze  in  the  wide  kitchen  fire- 
place. 

That  spring  has  been  rendered  mem- 
orable from  its  incendiary  fires. 
Two  alarms  having  been  given,  a  strict 
watch,  and  other  precautions,  were  in- 
stituted. A  third  fire  was  set  in  the 
barn  belonging  to  my  Uncle  Bradstreet 
Johnson  on  Temple  stieet,  which  was 
consumed,  with  Mr.  Johnson's  dwelling- 
house  and  the  residences  of  Mr.  Tommy 
Balch  and  Mr.  Andrew  Frothingham, 
opposite.  The  alarm  was  given  about 


ten  o'clock,  and  the  fire  raged  till  morn- 
ing. Mr.  Johnson  was  aged  and  fee- 
ble, and  with  difficulty  he  was  moved 
from  the  burning  house,  in  which  he 
lost  nearly  the  whole  of  his  clothing  and 
household  effects.  He  was  taken  to  the 
residence  of  his  nieces,  Tempy  and 
Mary  Johnson,  which  stood  next  below 
on  the  street,  where  his  relatives  and 
friends  supplied  his  immediate  need- 
He  continued  with  these  nieces  until  his 
death,  some  two  years  after.  The 
Eastern  Stage  Company  purchased  his 
estate  and  erected  the  large  brick  stable 
still  standing,  for  their  use. 

In  the  September  following,  the  Rev. 
Gilbert  T.  Williams,  from  ill  health, 
was  dismissed  from  the  pastorate  of  the 
First  church  in  West  Newbury.  He 
died  on  the  24th  of  September,  1824, 
aged  63  years.  He  was  succeeded  in 
1826  by  Henry  C.  Wright,  The  Rev. 
John  Kirby.  of  the  second  parish,  in 
1818  went  South  for  his  health,  and  on 
December  5th  was  drowned  at  Okrakok 
bar,  North  Carolina.  He  was  succeed- 
ed by  the  Rev.  Elijah  Demond,  who 
was  settled  on  the  7th  of  March.  1821. 

In  March  of  that  year,  Newburyport 
voted  to  erect  the  present  almshouse. 

In  1822  the  shambles  gave  place  to 
the  present  brick  market  house. 

In  that  same  year,  the  Lancasterian 
or  monitorial  system  of  teaching  was 
introduced  into  our  public  schools,  which 
continued  for  several  \'ears. 

As  Mr.  Abner  Wood  was  desirous  to 
occupy  his  house,  on  the  22nd  of  April, 
1821,  we  moved  to  the  house  on  High, 
lower  corner  of  Tyng  street.  The  es- 
tablishment was  owned  by  Mr.  Luther 
Waterman,  and  the  large  house,  stable 
and  garden,  was  rented  for  forty-five 
dollars  a  year. 

On  the  22nd  of  January,    1821,  my 


OF   A 


313 


sister,  Susan  Little  Smith,  was  united 
in  marriage  with  Mr.  Edward  Toppan. 
The  name  Toppan  was  originally  Top- 
ham,  taken  from  the  name  of  a  place 
in  Yorkshire,  meaning  upper  hamlet  or 
village.  The  pedigree  as  far  back  as 
traced,  commences  with  Robert  Top- 
ham,  who  resided  at  Linton,  near  Pate- 
ly  bridge,  supposed  to  be  in  the  west 
riding  of  Yorkshire.  He  made  his  will 
in  January,  1550.  His  second  son, 
Thomas  Topham,  was  of  Arncliffe,  near 
Linton.  He  died  in  1589,  and  was  bur- 
ied in  the  church  at  Arncliffe".  Edward 
Topham,  alias  Toppan,  eldest  son  of 
Thomas  Toppan,  was  of  Aiglethorpe, 
near  Linton,  and  has  his  pedigree  re- 
corded in  the  college  of  arms,  with  ar- 
morial bearings.  One  of  his  sons  was 
a  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  service  of 
Charles  I.,  and  was  killed  at  Marston 
Moor  in  1644.  William  Toppan,  fourth 
son  of  Edward  Toppan  of  Aiglethorpe, 
lived  for  some  time  at  Calbridge,  where 
Bis  son  Abraham  was  baptized  April 
10th,  1606.  The  family  still  exists  in 
England,  and  are  now  of  Middleham, 
in  the  northwest  part  of  Yorkshire  on 
the  river  Ouse.  As  early  as  1637, 
Abraham  Toppan  resided  at  Yarmouth  ; 
his  wife  was  a  Susanna  Taylor,  a  daugh- 
ter of  a  Mr.  Taylor  and  his  wife  Eliza- 
beth. After  the  death  of  Mr.  Taylor, 
the  widow  Elizabeth  married  a  Mr. 
Goodale  ;  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Good- 
ale  she  came  to  Newbury,  where  she 
died  April  8th,  1647.  Her  four  daugh- 
ters were  Susanna,  the  'wife  of  Abra- 
ham Toppan  ;  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Mr. 
John  Oliver,  and  of  Capt.  William  Ger- 
rish ;  Elizabeth,  the  wife  of  Mr.  John 
Lowle  ;  and  Ann,  the  wife  of  Capt. 
Thomas  Milward,  all  of  Newburj*.  In 
the  first  volume  of  the  fourth  series  of 
the  publications  of  the  Massachusetts 


Historical  Society,  pp.  98  and  99,  is 
the  following :  >'A  Register  of  the  names 
of  such  persons  who  are  21  years  and 
upward,  and  have  license  to  passe  into 
forraigne  parts  from  March  1637  to  the 
29th  of  September,  by  virtu  of  a  Com- 
mission of  Mr.  Thomas  Mayhew,  Gen- 
tleman." Among  these  persons  are  the 
following :  Abraham  Toppan  Cooper, 
aged  31 ;  Susanna,  his  wife,  aged  31, 
with  their  children  Peter  and  Elizabeth, 
and  one  mayd  servant  Anne  Goodin, 
aged  13  years,  sailed  from  Yarmouth 
10  May,  1637,  in  the  ship  Rose  of 
Yarmouth,  Wm.  Andrews  Master." 

In  October,  1637,  Abraham  Toppan 
was  in  Newbury,  as  appears  by  the 
following  extract  from  the  town  records  : 

"Abraham  Toppan  being  licensed  by 
John  Endicott  Esq.,  to  live  in  this  ju- 
risdiction, was  received  into  the  town 
of  Newberry  as  an  inhabitant  thereof 
and  have  promised  under  his  hand  to 
be  subject  to  any  lawful  order  that  shall 
be  made  by  the  towne. 

ABRAHAM  TOPPAN. 

Oct.  1637." 

Abraham  and  Susanna  Toppan  had 
seven  children,  Dr.  Peter,  Elizabeth, 
Abraham,  Jacob,  Susanna,  John  and 
Isaac. 

Jacob,  born  in  1645,  married  Han- 
nah Sewell  Aug.  24th,  1670;  their 
children  were  Jacob,  Samuel,  James, 
Jonn,  Hannah,  Elizabeth,  Abraham, 
Anne  and  Sewell. 

Mrs.  Toppan's  maiden  name  was 
Wigglesworth ;  she  was  the  widow  of 
John  Sewell. 

Abraham  Toppan,  born  June  29th, 
1684,  married  Esther  Sewell  Oct.  24th, 
1713  ;  the  children  were  Edward,  Eliz- 
abeth, Patience,  Samuel,  Jacob  and 
Michael. 

Edward  Toppan,  bora  Sept.  7th, 
1715,  married  Sarah -Bailey  Sept.  7th, 
40 


314 


EEMIXISCEXCES 


1743;  children,  Abraham,  Anna,  born 
1746,  died  1757,  Sarah,  Mary,  Patience, 
Joshua,  Stephen,  Edward,  Enoch, 
Anna,  Abner  and  Judith. 

Enoch  Toppan,  born  Ma}"  7th,  1759, 
married  Mary  Coffin  Feb.  2nd,  1794, 
and  Mary  Merrill,  Aug.  19th,  1797  ; 
children,  Moses,  Edward,  Margaret, 
Hannah  and  Mary. 

The  arms  of  Topham  or  Toppan  are  : 


ARGENT,  A  CHEVRON    (iULES,  BETWEEN  THREE  SIIANKM 
HEADS    EKASED   SABLE.      CREST,    TWO   CERPENTs 
ENTWINED    AROUND   A   CROSS   PATEE   FILCHEE. 

Jacob  Toppan  owned  a  large  tract  of 
land  through  which  Toppan  street,  then 
Toppan's  lane,  was  laid  out,  where,  in 
1694,  he  built  the  present  large  and 
commodious  dwelling  known  as  the 
Toppan  house.  He  was  succeeded  in 
the  homestead  by  his  son  Abraham,  his 
grandson  Edward,  and  his  great-grand- 
son Enoch. 

Edward  Toppan,  born  April  7th, 
1796,  was  the  husband  of  my  sister. 
Mr.  Toppan  had  erected  a  bouse  below 
his  father's,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lane,  whither  he  took  his  bride.  His 
brother  Moses  married  Cornelia  Brown, 
Feb.  2nd,  1828,  and  continued  on  the 
homestead. 

My  sister's  marriage  was  satisfactoiy 
to  the  whole  family,  but  especially  so 
to  me,  as  it  brought  her  into  my  imme- 


diate vicinage.  The  new  house,  with 
its  neat  furniture  was  most  inviting. 
Mrs.  Toppan,  a  thorough  housekeeper, 
possessing  much  energy,  skill  and  taste, 
made  an  excellent  wife  and  mother. 
Though  a  farmer's  wife,  and  the  mis- 
tress of  a  large  family,  hers  was  an  un- 
usually orderly  household,  and  though 
no  duty  was  neglected,  time  was  found 
for  social  intercourse,  hospitable  enter- 
tainment, charitable  deeds,  the  cultiva- 
tion of  a  flower  garden,  and  a  variety 
of  house  plants,  while  her  ingenuity  and 
skill  were  often  exhibited  in  little  adorn- 
ments in  dress,  or  for  the  dwelling,  and 
as  gifts  to  relatives  and  friends.  Mr. 
Toppan,  a  most  excellent  husband, 
father,  neighbor  and  citizen,  held  im- 
portant positions  in  the  town,  and  in 
the  parish  of  the  First  Religious  Society. 
A  consistent  Democrat,  he  twice  repre- 
sented his  native  place  in  the  State  leg- 
islature. 

In  the  spring  of  1821  Capt.  Joseph 
O'Brian  moved  to  Reading,  Pennsylva- 
nia, and  with  his  two  sons,  Dennis  and 
Joseph,  went  into  the  dry  goods  busi- 
ness under  the  firm  of  "Joseph  O'Brian 
&  Sons,  sign  of  the  'Golden  Ball.'  " 
Thomas  O'Brian,  in  company  with 
Thomas  Foster,  set  up  in  the  shoe  busi- 
ness, as  the  firm  of  "O'Brian  &  Foster." 

I  had  been  so  intimately  associated 
with  this  aunt  from  infancy  fliat  I  scarce- 
ly knew  how  to  live  without  her ;  her 
departure  caused  a  loneliness  which  was 
not  at  once  dispelled  ;  and  her  adopted 
daugfiter,  Eliza  Bartlett,  was  also  great- 
ly missed. 

The  next  spring  the  family  received 
with  great  pleasure  a  visit  from  my 
Aunt  Peabody ;  she  was  accompanied 
by  her  third  daughter  Sophila.  Learn- 
ing that  the  "Citizen"  had  arrived  with 
the  expected  guests,  Mr.  Emery  and 


OF   A 


315 


my  brother  Joseph  hastened  to  the 
wharf.  They  found  Mrs.  Peabody  and 
her  daughter  in  Mr.  Dodge's  counting- 
room,  awaiting  a  carriage  to  convey 
them  to  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Peabody 's 
sister,  Mrs.  Samuel  No3Tes,  at  the 
"Farms,"  Newbury.  Mr.  Emery  re- 
ceived the  greeting  of  an  old  friend  ; 
but  he  was  obliged  to  introduce  his 
companion.  Mrs.  Peabody  could  scarce- 
ly realize  that  the  tall,  handsome  young 
man  could  be  "sister  Piwly's  little  Jo- 
seph," and  the  little  Sophila  had 
changed  as  much  to  the  gentlemen. 

At  dinner  I  was  entertained  with  an 
account  of  the  meeting,  and  naturally 
inquired  respecting  my  cousin  Sophila's 
personal  appearance.  Mr.  Emery  re- 
plied, "that  she  was  not  as  handsome 
as  Sophronia,  that  she  was  a  complete 
Southern  girl."  My  brother's  hand- 
some black  e}-es  sparkled  as  he  added, 
"that  he  thought  her  full  as  handsome 
as1  her  elder  sister,  and  that  she  was  the 
most  graceful  and  polished  young  lady 
he  had  ever  met ;"  altogether  he  pro- 
nounced her  "perfectly  charming."  'I 
was  somewhat  amused,  and  was  not  as 
much  surprised  as  Aunt  Peabody,  at 
her  nephew's  extremely  considerate  at- 
tention in  driving  her  and  her  daughter 
about  the  vicinity  to  visit  their  numer- 
ous relatives.  The  visitors  returned 
home  in  October,  when  the  cousins'  en- 
gagement was  openly  declared.  No 
one  thought  of  objecting  on  account  of 
consanguinity,  and  the  lad}r  had  ren- 
dered herself  a  general  favorite.  "Mar- 
rying cousins  was  a  family  trait ;  my 
husband  and  my  brother  James  and  his 
wife  were  second  cousins  ;  Mrs'.  Top- 
pan  and  her  husband  were  also  rela- 
tives, as  Mr.  Toppan's  grandmother 
was  a  Little,  from  Turkey  Hill ;  my 
brother  and  his  affianced  had  but  fol- 


lowed the  family  predilection  of  Little 
cleaving  to  Little  in  preference  to  the 
rest  of  creation. 

The  wedding  took  place  the  next  Oc- 
tober, at  Gen.  Peabody's  residence  in 
Georgetown.  The  bridal  pair  came  di- 
rectly to  Newburyport,  and  remained 
with  us  until  a  house  was  procured. 

Miss  Dorothy  Miltimore  had  some 
years  previous  married  Capt.  James 
Rousseau ;  he  was  recently  deceased, 
and  the  widow,  with  her  two  children, 
had  returned  to  the  paternal  roof.  My 
brother  rented  her  house  at  the  head  of 
Strong  street,  and  in  six  weeks  the 
young  couple  went  to  housekeeping. 
Polly  Smart,  who  for  years  had  been  a 
faithful  servitor  in  Gen.  Peabody's  fam- 
ily, had  come  North.  At  the  time  of 
Miss  Sophila's  marriage  she  was  on  a 
.  visit  to  Plymouth,  N.  H.  Upon  receiv- 
ing the  intelligence  she  hastened  to 
Newbmyport  to  meet  the  wedded  pair, 
and  remained  with  us  until  the  house 
was  secured,  when  she  at  once  assumed 
the  management  of  affairs.  "What  did 
that  3'oung  thing  know  of  New  England 
housekeeping?  She  could  embroider 
muslin  and  paint  picters,.  but  she  knew 
no  more  how  to  take  care  of  Joe  Smith 
and  his  house  than  a  baby  !"  So  Mrs. 
Smith  was  installed  in  state  in  the  par- 
lor to  receive  callers  and  entertain  her 
husband  and  his  friends,  while  Polly,  in 
her  short  gown  and  petticoat,  and  tow 
apron,  her  hair  uniquely  drawn  under  a 
net,  her  round  honest  face  radiant  with 
responsibility,  clattered  about  with  her 
strong  bare  arms  amongst  the  pots  and 
pans,  a  perfect  autocrat  of  the  kitchen. 

On  April  4th,  1823,  m}'  grandfather, 
Joseph  Little,  died  at  the  ripe  age  of 
83.  He  had  suffered  most  patiently  for 
some  time  from  a  cancerous  stomach, 
and  his  departure  had  been  long  ex- 


316 


REMINISCENCES 


pected.  My  grandmother  had  a  few 
years  before  been  stricken  with  paraly- 
sis. Grandsir  had  been  assiduous  in 
his  attention,  and  his  departure  was 
keenly  felt  by  his  widow  ;  we  all  sadly 
missed  the  kind,  genial  old  gentleman, 
and  the  old  homestead  ever  after  seemed 
lone  and  desolate. 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

On  August  31st,-  1824,  LaFayette 
visited  Newburyport.  On  the  23d  a 
town-meeting  was  called  to  arrange  the 
reception.  It  was  decided  that  the  com- 
mittee of  arrangements  should  receive 
the  General  at  Ipswich,  thence  he  would 
proceed  under  the  escort  of  a  battalion 
of  Cavalry,  through  Rowley  to  New-, 
bury,  Oldtown.  At  the  head  of  South 
street  this  escort  was  to  be  joined  by 
the  Newburyport  Artilleiy  and  the 
Washington  Light  Infantry,  when  the 
distinguished  guest  would  be  conducted 
through  High  and  down  State  street  to 
the  Tracy  mansion,  then  to  the  resi- 
dence of  James  Prince,  esq.,  where  he 
would  be  entertained.  Upon  his  arrival 
at  the  Prince  house  an  address  of  wel- 
come would  be  given  by  the  Hon.  Eb- 
enezer  Moseley.  The  houses  along  the 
line  of  the  procession  were  to  be  illumi- 
nated ;  the  signal  for  lighting  would  be 
a  gun  fired  from  Oldtown  Hill.  On  the 
following  morning  an  hour  would  be  ap- 
propriated to  the  introduction  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  the  time  to  be  announced 
by  ringing  of  the  bells.  A  procession 
would  then  be  formed  of  the  commis- 
sioned officers  of  the  brigade  in  uni- 
form ;  State  and  municipal  magistrates 
and  citizens  to  accompany  the  General 
through  the  principal  streets,  escorted 


by  the  Ityfield  Rifle  Corps,  the  New- 
buryport Artillery,  and  the  Washington 
Light  Infantry.  This  rifle  company 
was  the  first  organized  in  the  State,  and 
the3'  were  distinguished  for  accuracy  of 
aim  and  other  soldierly  qualities.  The 
school  children  were  to  assemble  in  the 
mall,  the  procession  to  pass  through  the 
lines.  Citizens  were  requested  to  dis- 
play flags  on  the  vessels  and  other  con- 
spicuous places.  The  committee  of  ar- 
rangements were  Ebenezer  Wheelright, 
esq.,  Hon.  Ebenezer  Moseley,  Anthonj7 
Smith,  William  Davis,  Philip  Coombs, 
Joshua  Greenleaf,  William  Bartlett, 
esq.,  Hon.  Samuel  S  Wilde,  William 
Cross,  Josiah  Smith,  Thomas  M.  Clark, 
Joshua  Greeuleaf,  John  Coffin,  Abra- 
ham Williams.  John  Merrill  and  Caleb 
Gushing,  esq. 

The  marshals  of  the  day  were  Capt. 
Edmund  P>artlett,  Maj.  Thomas  Per- 
kins, Maj.  David  Emery,  Messrs. 
George  Cross,  Nathaniel  Fos.ter,  .John 
Scott,  esq..  and  Nathan  Brown. 

Mr.  Prince's  elegant  mansion  was 
put  in  readiness  to  receive  the  distin- 
guished guest.  Mr.  Emery  took  me  to 
see  the  chamber  he  was  to  occupy.  It 
was  the  apartment  in  which  Washing- 
ton had  slept  on  his  visit  to  the  town, 
and  the  furniture  had  never  been  re- 
moved. The  bedstead  which  had  the 
honor  to  support  both  Washington  and 
LaFayette  on  the  night  of  their  sojourn 
in  Newburyport,  was  of  mahoganj-, 
about  the  height  of  our  modern  bed- 
steads, with  four  handsomely  carved 
posts  reaching  nearly  to  the  ceiling. 
The  hangings  were  of  crimson  silk  dam- 
ask, long  curtains  on  rods,  drawing 
around  the  bed,  with  valances  draping 
the  tester ;  the  coverlet  was  like  the 
curtains,  and  the  whole  were  bordered 
by  an  ornamental  gimp  and  fringe. 


OF   A 


317 


The  seats  to  the  mahogan}'  chairs  were 
covered  to  match  ;  the  rest  of  the  fur- 
niture was  rich  and  massive. 

The  dining-room  was  resplendent, 
with  its  handsomely  appurteminced  side- 
board, and  the  table  was  spread  with 
great  elegance.  The  spacious  parlors 
were  luxurious  with  their  polished  fur- 
niture, silken  curtains  and  superb  mir- 
rors. Every  thing  was  fitting  for  the 
reception  of  the  noble  and  honored  vis- 
itor. 

An  arch  was  thrown  across  the  head 
of  State  street  which  bore  the-  inscrip- 
tion "The  Hero  of  Two  Continents." 
Many  of  the  windows  of  the  houses  on 
the  route  of  the  procession  were  deco- 
rated with  mottoes  expressive  of  the 
most  enthusiastic  jo}*. 

At  an  early  hour  on  Tuesday  even- 
ing, August  31st,  the  General  arrived 
at  Ipswich,  amid  the  greetings  of  a 
large  assembly  of  citizens.  He  was  ad- 
dressed by  Nathaniel  Lord,  esq.,  and 
after  partaking  of  a  collation  provided 
at  Treadwell's  Hotel,  he  proceeded 
towards  Newbnryport  at  9  o'clock,  at- 
tended by  his  suite,  Maj.  General  Stick- 
ney  and  his  Aid,  and  the  committee  of 
arrangements.  The  houses  along  the 
road  in  Oldtown,  as  well  as  in  New- 
bnryport, were  illuminated.  At  the 
Lower  Green  the  residence  of  Mr.  Sam- 
uel Newman  was  conspicuous  for  the 
beauty  and  good  taste  regarding  the 
lights.  The  hero's  approach  was  an- 
nounced by  the  ringing  of  bells,  the 
roaring  of  cannons,  and  the  display  of 
rockets. 

Unfortunately  a  drenching  southerly 
rain  set  in  the  first  of  the  evening, 
which  marred  everything:  Notwith- 
standing the  water  poured  down  like  a 
second  flood,  an  immense  crowd  re- 
ceived the  General.  Upon  arriving  at 


the  Prince  house  he  was  addressed  by 
Hon.  Ebenezer  Moseley  as  follows  : 

"Gen.  LaFayette, — The  citizens  of 
Newburyport.  are  happy  in  this  oppor- 
tunity of  greeting  with  the  warmest 
welcome,  a  distinguished  benefactor  of 
their  country. 

The  important  services  you  rendered 
this  people  in  the  day  of  their  distress, 
the  devotedness  which  you  manifested 
in  their  perilous  cause,  and  the  dangers 
which  3'^u  sought  for  their  relief,  are 
incorporated  in  our  history  and  firmly- 
engraven  on  our  hearts. 

We  would  lead  yon  to  our  institu- 
tions of  learning,  charity  and  religion  ; 
we  would  point  you  to  our  hills  and  val- 
leys, covered  with  flocks  and  smiling  in 
abundance,  that  you  may  behold  the 
happy  effects  of  thole  principles  of  lib- 
erty which  3'ou  were  so  instrumental  in 
establishing.  Our  children  cluster  about 
you  to  receive  a  patriot's  blessing.  Our 
citizens  press  forward  to  show  their 
gratitude.  Our  nation  pays  3*011  a  trib- 
ute which  must  remove  the  reproach 
that  republics  are  ungrateful. 

As  the  zealous  advocate  of  civil  lib- 
erty we  give  3-011  welcome  ;  as  the  brave 
defender  of  an  oppressed  people,  we 
make  3*ou  welcome — as  the  friend  and 
companion  of  our  immortal  Washing- 
ton, we  bid  3-011  welcome." 

To  this  a  brief  and  appropriate  reply 
was  made,  in  which  the  General  mod- 
estly hinted,  that  "the  great  attention 
paid  him  was  far  beyond  his  expecta- 
tions or  deserts — that  his  feelings  of  at- 
tachment towards  this  country  could 
not  be  expressed,  but  01113-  felt  by  a 
heart  glowing  with  the  most  ardent  af- 
fection." 

A  window  was  thrown  up.  and  the 
General  presented  himself  to  the  crowd. 
Every  one  strove  to  first  grasp  his  hand  ; 
the  shouts  were  hushed  in  the  excess 
of  affectionate  feeling,  while  in  kind  re- 
bukes he  expressed  his  sorrow  that  any 
should  be  exposed  for  his  sake  to  the 
inclement  weather.  Supper,  which  had 


318 


REMINISCENCES 


been  provided  b}T  Mr.  Stetson,  was  then 
served.  At  the  table,  with  the  General 
and  his  suite,  were  the  military  officers, 
the  committee  of  arrangements,  the  cler- 
gymen of  the  town  and  the  marshals  of 
the  day. 

I  passed  an  anxious  evening.  M/v 
husband's  health  did  not  admit  of  ex- 
posure, and  I  knew  he  must  be  com- 
pletely drenched.  The  bells  and  the 
guns  announced  the  arrival  of  the  cor- 
tege. About  11  o'clock  I  was  startled 
by  the  entrance  of  a  stranger,  a  cavalry 
officer  from  Andover,  who  brought  an 
introduction  from  my  husband.  He 
was  iu  delicate  health  and  feared  the 
worst  from  such  a#wetting.  I  supplied 
dry  clothes  and  a  cup  of  hot  tea,  while 
Babb.  having  stabled  the  officer's  steed, 
built  a  rousing  fire  in  the  kitchen  fire- 
place to  dry  his  uniform.  Mr.  Emery 
arrived  about  12 ;  his  military  cloak 
had  been  some  defence,  still  his  cloth- 
ing was  saturated.  The  crowd  had  been 
great,  and  owing  to  the  pelting  rain 
there  had  been  much  confusion.  A 
gang  of  pickpockets  was  following  the 
General  on  his  route,  and  several  of our 
citizens  were  most  adroitly  despoiled  of 
their  pocket-books  and  watches.  The 
marshals  had  been  obliged  to  remain  on 
horseback  until  the  company  sat  down 
to  supper.  As  the  suits  must  be  ready 
for  service  in  the  morning,  the  faithful 
liabb  and  John  B.  Porter,  then  a  lad  in 
the  family,  took  them  in  charge  while 
the  tired  owners  sought  repose. 

On  Wednesday  morning  the  weather 
being  unpromising,  the  procession  was 
abandoned.  After  gracefully  receiving 
all  who  chose  an  introduction,  La Fay  - 
ette  entered  his  carriage  for  Portsmouth. 
An  escort  composed  of  cavalry,  light 
infantry  and  artillery,  accompanied  him 
a  short  distance  ;  the  gentlemen  of  the 


committee  of  arrangements,  and  the 
marshals  attended  him  to  Leavitt's  tav- 
ern in  Hampton.  In  the  afternoon  the 
disappointed  children  were  paraded  on 
the  mall ;  they  had  been  furnished  with 
LaFayette  badges.  The  girls  wore 
white  dresses  and  blue  sashes,  upon 
which  was  stamped  a  portrait  of  the 
General;  a  similar  likeness  had  been 
put  on  white  satin  ribbons  about  a  quar- 
ter of  a  yard  in  length,  which  were  at- 
tached to  the  buttonholes  of  the  boys' 
jackets. 

LaFaj'ette  returned  to  town  between 
12  and  1  o'clock  Thursday  morning. 
The  houses  on  High  street  through 
Belleville  and  Newburyport  were  bril- 
liantly illuminated,  and  every  one  was 
up  to  receive  the  beloved  visitor. 

The  General  remained  here  about  two 
hours,  and  then  set  out  for  Boston, 
wrhere  he  was  under  an  engagement  to 
review  a  bod}-  of  troops  at  Lexington. 

There  were  man}-  interesting  meet- 
ings during  LaFayette's  visit  with  old 
friends,  his  former  comrades  in  arms, 
Capt.  Gould  and  Mr.  Edward  Toppan, 
had  served  under  him  in  Rhode  Island  ; 
Mr.  Lemuel  Coffin  had  been  under  Col. 
Bayler  of  Washington's  Life  Guards, 
and  witnessed  LaFayette's  brave  .con- 
duct at  Monmouth  :  Mr.  Amos  Pear- 
son had  been  with  him  at  the  capture  of 
Burgo3*ne  ;  but  of  the  many  veterans  of 
the  continental  army  who  were  present- 
ed to  the  General,  none  produced  a 
stronger  title  to  notice  than  Mr.  Daniel 
Foster  ;  he  was  a  non-commissioned  of- 
ficer in  LaFa}-ette's  select  corps  of 
Light  Infantry,  and  constantly  about 
the  General.  .This  had  been  the  pet 
corps  of  LaFayette,  and  he  uniformed 
and  armed  it  at  his  own  expense.  Mr. 
Foster  advanced  before  the  General, 
and  holding  his  sword,  welcomed  his 


w 

CJ 

3 

- 


OP   A 


319 


former  commander  to  our  shores.  He 
told  him  "lie  was  proud  to  see  him  once 
more  on  American  soil,  and  that  his 
son's  sons  participated  in  his  happiness 
on  this  joyful  occasion."  When  La- 
Fayette  saw  one  of  his  own  infantry 
standing  before  him,  one  who  had  often 
commanded  his  quarter  guard,  and  his 
own  mark  on  the  blade  of  the  sword 
half  drawn  from  the  scabbard,  he  greet- 
ed the  old  soldier  most  cordially,  em- 
bracing him  enthusiastically,  telling  him 
"that  he  looked  jipon  him  as  one  of  his 
own  family." 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  unpropitious 
weather,  this  reception  would  have  been 
most  auspicious  ;  but  the  rain  causing 
a  change  in  the  programme,  some  dis- 
appointment and  mistakes  ensued. 

The  Bvfield  RiHe  Corps  was  to  have 
joined  in  the  Wednesday  morning's  pro- 
cession ;  they  came  into  town  the  even- 
ing previous  to  witness  the  arrival  of 
the  General  and  be  in  readiness  for  the 
next  morning's  celebration.  Owing  to 
the  procession 's  being  abandoned  they 
were  entirely  overlooked.  Mr.  Emery 
found  them  a  rueful  set  of  men,  without 
a  breakfast.  He  immediately  ordered 
the  requisite  refreshment,  which,  though 
it  took  nearly  forty  dollars  from  his 
pocket,  secured  him  the  kind  remem- 
brance of  his  own  comrades,  friends 
and  neighbors. 


CHAPTER  LXIJ. 

In  August  the  county  bought  the  es- 
tate above  the  jail.  This  property  be- 
longed to  Mr.  Thomas  Somerby.  On 
it  was  a  good  two-story  house,  which 
was  sold  to  be  removed,  for  the  erection 


of  the  stone  house  occupied  by  the  jail 
keeper.  The  Somerby  house  was  put 
up  at  auction,  and  was  knocked  oil' to 
Mr.  Emery  for  $190.  By  the  terms  of 
sale  he  was  obliged  to  move  it  in  one 
week ;  it  was  sold  on  Tuesday,  and  the 

9 

next  week  Monday  at  half-past  5  in  the 
afternoon,  it  was  on  his  hill  fronting  his 
stable  and  slaughter-house.  This  was 
an  astonishing  expedition-  for  those 
days,  as  none  of  the  present  appliances 
for  moving  buildings  were  at  hand. 
Mr.  Emery  was  obliged  to  go  to  Dan- 
vers  to  procure  the  wheels  upon  which 
the  building  was  moved.  The  team- 
sters and  farmers  in  the  town  and  vi- 
cinit}-  furnished  the  teams  ;  a  string  of 
forty- two  yoke  of  oxen  drew  the  build- 
ing to  its  place. 

High  street  was  lined  with  people  to 
witness  the  novel  sight ;  there  had  not 
been  such  a  stir  in  the  town  for  months, 
as  in  those  days  there  was  little  to 
break  the  monoton}-  excepting  the  daily 
arrivals  of  the  various  stages,  and 
"court  week,"  which  was  hailed  with 
especial  delight  by  the  young  ladies,  as 
a  season  for  evening  parties,  at  which 
the  lawyers  and  other  distinguished 
strangers  which  the  court  drew  into 
town,  were  entertained. 

The  evening  of  LaFayette's  arrival 
the  house  stood  upon  posts,  the  cellar 
not  having  been  completed,  and  I  great- 
ly feared  that  it  would  be  blown  over 
in  the  southeastern  storm.  No  acci- 
dent happened,  and  an  L  was  immedi- 
ately added.  There  was  so  little  build- 
ing at  that  time  that  the  remodelling  of 
the  house  attracted  much  attention,  and 
visitors  often  went  to  view  the  bnildim* 

O 

and  the  fine   prospect  which  its  site  a!'-  , 
forded.     Mr.  Moses  Coflin  and  his  sons 
did  the  joiner's  work,  and  Mr.  Marshall 
the  masonry.     The  house  was  complet- 


320 


REMTNTSCElSrCE  S 


ed  by  November,  and  we  took  posses- 
sion on  the  22nd. 

The  next  February  my  Aunt  Thurrel 
died  ;  her  husband  went  before  some 
two  or  three  years.  In  March,  her 
brother,  and  Mr.  Emerj-'s  grandfather, 
John  Little;  died ;  he  took  cold  at  his 
sister's  funeral  and  never  went  ont 
again.  In  the  same  week  we  were 
called  to  mourn  the  loss  of  Jane  Noyes, 
the  only  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Samuel  Noyes.  Jane  was  a  very  beau- 
tiful and  lovely  girl  of  nineteen,  and  her 
death  caused  a  sad  void  in  the  home 
and  throughout  the  family.  Her  illness 
was  lingering  and  distressing,  but  it 
was  borne  with  a  patience  and  even 
cheerfulness,  which  evinced  the  most 
lovely  traits'  of  a  truly  Christian  charac- 
ter. Leaning  upon  the  Savior,  she 
calmly  met  the  approach  of  death,  and 
with  childlike  trust  at  last  fell  asleep  in 
Jesus.  Jane  Xoyes  was  buried  on  one 
day,  and  Grandfather  Little  on  the 
next. 

The  next  October  my  brother  Joseph 
moved  to  Boston,  and  went  into  the 
wholesale  grocery  business  in  a  store 
on  North  Market  street,  in  companj- 
with  the  Hon.  Marshall  P.  AVilder. 

The  next  spring  Mr.  Solomon  Babb 
took  possession  of  a  farm  which  he  had 
purchased  in  Meredith.  N.  II.,  border- 
ing on  Lake  Winnipiseogee.  This  es- 
tate was  bought  with  the  savings  of  his 
period  of  service  in  our  family.  He  not 
only  secured  a  fine  large  farm,  but  had 
also  sufficient  funds  to  stock  it  and  s^t 
up  housekeeping. 

In  the  August  of  1824  C'apt.  John 
Emery  Remick,  then  a  lad  of  fourteen, 
the  second  son  of  Capt.  John  Remick, 
and  grandson  of  Mr.  Emery's  uncle, 
Maj.  Ephrairn  Emery,  came  to  reside 
with  us  ;  he  continued  in  our  household 


until  after  his   majority,  and  was   ever 
regarded  as  a  son  in  the  familv. 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

Methodism  acquired  but  few  adhe- 
rents in  this  vicinity  until  1819,  when 
the  Rev.  John  Adams,  commonly  known 
as  "Reformation  John, "commenced his 
labors.  The  first  meetings  were  held 
in  private  houses  ;  then,  an  old  school- 
house  on  Marlborough  street  became 
the  place  of  worship,  while  the  prayer- 
meetings  were  still  held  at  the  dwellings 
of  the  converts. 

A  church  had  been  built  at  Salisbury, 
jind  until  1825  the  two  societies  were 
connected,  Mr.  Adams  preaching  alter- 
nately at  the  two  places.  On  the  Sub- 
baths  when  the  service  was  held  in 
Salisbury,  many  of  the  Newbury  people 
crossed  the  river  in  boats  to  attend  di- 
vine worship.  At  that  period  there 
were  many  itinerant  preachers  conse- 
crated to  missionary  work  ;  these  trav- 
elled on  foot,  their  clothing  slung  in  a 
knapsack  on  their  shoulders  or  on  horse- 
back, the  saddle-bags  dependirfg  from 
the  saddle  containing  the  sum  of  their 
worldly  possessions. 

Mr.  Cutting  Pettingell  was  one  of  the 
first  converts,  and  his  house  was  ever 
open  to  his  brethren.  Often  at  sunset 
one  or  more  of  these  tired,  dust},  way- 
worn travellers  would  arrive,  explain- 
ing that  they  had  been  directed  to  the 
"Pilgrim's  Home,"  as  Mr.  Pettingell' s 
house  had  become  designated. 

In  1825-.  a  small,  one-story  chapel, 
with  an  unpretending  portico  over  the 
entrance,  was  erected  in  the  midst  of  a 
field  between  South  and  .Marlborough 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


321 


streets.  Gates  opening  upon  paths 
through  the  potato  patch  gave  ingress 
to  the  building  ;  the  principal  walk  led 
from  a  gate  at  the  head  of  Chase'?  court 
directly  to  the  front  door.  This  incon- 
venient location  had  been  chosen  on  ac- 
count of  the  cheapness  of  the  site. 

Among  the  first  pew-holders  were  the 
Pettingells,  Plummers,  Hunts,  Good- 
wins, Lunts,  Thuiiows,  Capt.  Joseph 
L.  Colby,  Mr.  Benjamin  Brown,  Mr. 
David  Watts.  Mr.  Moses  Chase,  Mr. 
Charles  Shoof,  Mr.  Amos  Currier,  Jo- 
siah  Plummer  Noyes,'  Mr.  Isaac  Noyes, 
Mr.  William  Ilsley,  Mr.  Michael  Worm- 
stead,  Mr.  Samuel  Smith,  Mr.  Benja- 
min Atkinson,  Mr.  Joseph  Janvrin  and 
Mr.  Peabod3r  Greeuleaf. 

In  a  few  years  Adelphi  street  was 
laid  out ;  this*brought  the  chapel  into  a 
pleasant  and  convenient  situation";  ac- 
cessible from  the  sidewalk.  The  band, 
who  in  the  face  of  much  opposition  had 
founded  this  new  societ}T,  reckoned 
among  its  members  some  of  the  deepest 
thinkers  and  most  respectable  citizens 
of  that  part  of  the  town  ;  still  they  were 
subjected  to  much  animadversion  and 
derision.  Many  of  the  more  zealous 
female  members,  discarding  outward 
adornment,  wore  short  hair  and  ex- 
tremely plain  attire  ;  this,  and  their  as- 
sisting to  conduct  the  meetings,  brought 
upon  them  the  scorn  and  ridicule  of  the 
more  worldly  minded. 

Greatly  in  need  of  a  domestic,  I  was 
informed  that  a  young  girl  named  Ann 
Page  desired  a  place.  My  invitation 
that  she  should  call  was  immediately 
answered  by  a  pretty,  black-eyed  .girl 
of  eighteen,  lively  and  enthusiastic. 
To  the  chagrin  and  displeasure  of  her 
parents,  Miss  Page  had  embraced  Meth- 
odism, and  her  mother  declared  "that 
if  she  would  persist  in  disgracing  her- 


self, she  must  leave  the  paternal  roof." 
Ann  gave  a  graphic  description'of  her 
conversion.  One  evening,  from  curi- 
osity, she  attended  a  meeting,  declaring 
in  her  gay  manner,  "that  she  must  hear 
the  preacher,  who  shouted  so  loud  that 
one  could  see  the  pudding  he  ate  for 
dinner."  The  careless,  thoughtless  girl 
entered  that  old  Maryborough  street 
school-house  to  emerge  a  changed  be- 
ing. ^'Old  things  had  passed  away,  all 
had  become  new."  Her  fine  clothes 
were  laid  aside,  her  luxuriant  locks 
were  shorn,  and  in  a  plain  calico,  and  a 
straw  bonnet  tied  by  a  ribbon,  drawn 
smoothly  over  the  crown,  she  sought  a 
place  at  service,  that  she  might  enjoy 
her  religion  without  censure.  The  only 
boon  she  craved  was  to  attend  the  Sat- 
urday evening  class  meetings  and  the 
Sabbath  services.  Though  a  total  ig- 
norance of  the  duties  of  a  serving-maid 
was  admitted,  I  was  so  much  pleased 
with  the  girl  that  I  hired  her  directly, 
and  a  most  pleasant  and  efficient  mem- 
ber of  the  household  she  became  ;  wil- 
ling, quick,  lively  and  affectionate,  she 
grew  to  be  the  light  of  the  house.  At 
the  end  of  a  year,  her  parents  having 
become  reconciled  to  her  change  of  faith, 
she  returned  home  to  prepare  for  mar- 
riage. In  that  relation  and  throughout 
life  she  has  exemplified  the  sincerity  of 
her  conversion.  In  her  sportive  man- 
ner she  often  testifies  to  the  benefit  that 
Methodism  conferred  in  a  temporal  as 
well  as  spiritual  sense.  By  being  sent 
to  service  she  gained  the  knowledge 
which  is  invaluable  to  a  woman,  a  thor- 
ough training  in  domestic  life. 

The  Boynton  family  date  from  the  in- 
vasion of  Ireland  by  the  Norsemen,  in 
the  seventh  century.  A  chieftain  of  the 
race  obtained  a  victory  on  the  river 
Boyne,  and  from  that  historic  stream 
41 


322 


REMINISCENCES 


took  the  name  of  Boynton.  The  com- 
mencement of  the  family  pedigree  in 
England  is  as  follows  : 

"Bartholomew  Boynton,  of  Boynton, 
Lord  of  the  Manor,  in  1014,  had  Wal- 
ter de  Boynton,  living  in  1092,  who  had 
Sir  Ingram  Boyiiton  Kent,  1113,  who 
had  Thomas  Boynton,  1142,  who  had 
William  de  Boynton,  1166. 

Sir  William  de  Bovington,  living  in 
1214,  to  whom  liigelram  Monceau  gave 
2  messuages,  3  cottages  and  7  bovats 
of  land  in  Bovington,  married  Alecia, 
daughter  of  Ingelrarn  Monceau,  living 
a  widow  in  1221,  when  she  gave  two 
oxgangs  of  land  in  Bovington  to  Nun 
Appleton  Priory. 

Sir  Ingelram  de  Bovington,  seated  at 
Acklam,  1229,  married  a  daughter  of 
Roger  der  Acklam. 

William  Boyuton  of  Acklam,  living 
in  1277,  married  Jaou,  daughter  of  Sir 
John  Wadsley. 

Ingram  de  Boyton,  held  the  3d  part 
of  one  knight's  fee,  in  Acklam,  Levin- 
thorpe,  Thornton,  Martin,  Cottesby 
and  Rquceby  1313,  married  Margaret, 
daughter  of  Sir  Walter  Grindal — Isabel, 
daughter  of  Robert  Nevile  of  Hornby 
2nd  wife. 

Sir  Walter  de  Bo}'nton  succeeded  his 
father  1320,  and  heir  to  his  brother 
John.  He  was  knighted  in  1356,  being 
in  the  service  of  the  Black  Prince  in 
Brittany  ;  married  daughter  of  William 
Aton  of  Ayton. 

John  de  Bovington,  gave  1  messuage, 
1  taffc,  and  4  bovats  of  land  in  Boving-: 
ton,  for  the  maintenance  of  a  chaplain, 
to  pra,y  at  the  altar  of  the  Blessed  Mary 
in  Bovingtou,  'for  his  own  soul,  the 
souls  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  the 
souls  of  all  his  ancestors,  and  the  faith- 
ful dead.' 

Sir  Thomas  Boyiiton  of  Acklam  1377, 


with  Thomas  de  Ingleby,  had  a 
grant  from  King  Edward  for  free  war- 
ren in  Acklam,  Cleveland,  Aresome", 
Rousby,  Newton,  Smeaton  and  Boyn- 
ton, co.  York,  and  in  1392  Richard 
2nd  confirmed  a  gift  of  the  fishery  on 
the  river  Te}-se  at  Catterick  ;  married 
Catharine,  daughter  and  co-heiress  of 
Sir  Geoffery  Rossels  of  Newton,  under 
Dunesburgh,  Cleveland. 

Sir  Thomas  Boynton,  lieutenant  and 
constable  at  Carlisle,  under  Hemy  Per- 
cye,  son  of  the  Earl  of  Northumberland 
in  1383,  died  before  his  father,  married 
Margaret,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Spec- 
ton  of  Sawkill. 

Sir  Robert  Boynton  was  governor  of 
Berwick  Castle  in  1377,  married  Isabel, 
daughter  of  Sir  William  Normanville. 

Sir  Henry  de  Boynton,  succeeded  his 
grandfather,  Sir  Thomas,  in  1402.  He 
was  suspected  of  being  in  the  interest 
of  Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land, and  his  son,  who- had  taken  arms 
against  Henry '4th  in  1403  ;  when  the 
battle  of  Shrewsbury  was  fought,  his 
oath  was  taken  to  be  true  to  the  king, 
yet  three  years  after  he  was  concerned 
with  the  said  Earl,  Thos.  Mowbray, 
Earl  Marshall,  Richard  Scrope,  arch- 
bishop of  York,  and  others  who  had 
taken  arms,  and  frying  to  Berwick,  was 
apprehended,  and  on  the  surrender 
thereof  to  the  king,  with  seven  others, 
executed  July  20th,  1405 ;  he  married 
Elisabeth,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Con- 
gers, of  Sackburne. 

Thomas  de"  Boynton,  aged  12  at  his 
father's  death,  married  Margaret,  daugh- 
ter of  Peter  Mirfield. 

Sir  William  Boyiiton,  brother  and 
heir  to  Thomas  de  Boynton,  married 
Jane,  daughter  of  Simon  Harding. 

Sir  Thomas  Boyuton  of  Akclam,  mar- 
ried Isabel,  daughter  of  Sir  William 


OF   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


323 


Normanville  of  Kilnwick.  The  will  of 
Dame  Joan  Boynton  of  Yarm,  was 
Proved  Feb.  7th,  1488.  She  had  a  li- 
cense for  an  oratory  at  Sudbury  Dec. 
2nd,  1455,  and  also  April  30th,  1463, 
to  have  service  in  an  orator}'  wherever 
she  chose,  and  in  March  1473  Arch- 
bishop Nevile  granted  her  the  privilege 
for  three  }Tears. 

Sir  Henry  Boynton,  lord  of  Barm- 
ston,  married  before  1473,  Margaret, 
daughter  and  co-heiress  of  Sir  Martin 
del  See,  Lord  of  Barmston,  ob.  before 
1497.  Dame  Marge r-y  was  a  votary 
and  patroness  to  the  priory  of  Nun 
Gotham. 

Thomas  Boj'nton  of  Barmston  and 
Akclam,  in  1519  petitioned  the  Cardinal 
of  York  to  have  the  chapel  of  Rousby 
consecrated  and  sacraments  adminis- 
tered there.  He  died  March  «17th, 
1523,  and  was  buried  in  Rousby  chapel ; 
married  Cecelia,  daughter  of  Sir  James 
Strangeways  at  Smeaton. 

Matthew  Boynton  Esq.,  steward  of 
the  lordships  belonging  to  St.  Mary's 
Abbey,  in  York,  died  at  York  July  31st, 
1541,  aged  40.  He  had  a  grant  of  land 
for  life  from  Henry  8th,  of  the  high 
stewardship  of  all  lands  in  the  counties 
of  York  and  Lincoln,  forfeited  by  the 
attainder  of  William  Wood,  prior  of 
Bridlington.  In  his  will  desired  to  be 
buried  at  Barmston,  and  leaves  20£  to 
the  high  altar  in  that  church ;  married 
Ann,  daughter  of  Sir  John  Bulmer  of 
Wilton. 

Sir  Thomas  Boynton,  son  and  heir, 
aged  18  at  his  father's  decease,  and 
whose  custod}*  was  given  to  Sir  Ralph 
Evans,  M.  P.  for  Boroughbridge,  13th 
Elisabeth,  high  sheriff  of  Yorkshire, 
18th  Elisabeth,  and  knighted  by  her 
Majesty  at  Hampton  Court  January 
1577,  in  the  20th  year  of  her  reign,  was 


buried  amongst  his  ancestors  at  Barm- 
ston. In  his  will  he  earnestly  requests 
Henry,  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  (styling 
him  'that  man  of  God,')  to  take  upon 
him  the  guardianship  of  his  only  son  ; 
married  1st  Ellen,  daughter  of  Sir, 
Nicholas  .  Fairfax,  of  Walton,  was  a 
minor  in  the  king's  wardship,  with  whom 
he  had  never  company,  but  she  was  di- 
vorced from  him,  and  married  Vava- 
vour  of  Hazlewood  (1174)  ;  Margaret, 
2nd  wife,  daughter  of  Sir  William  Hen- 
ton,  of  Harpsham ;  3d  wife,  Frances, 
daughter  of  Sir  Francis  Frobisher,  of 
Altufts  ;  4th  wife,  Alice,  daughter  of 
Nicholas  Tempest,  of  Helmsden.  Cece- 
ly  Boynton,  second  daughter  of  Sir 
Thomas,  was  maid  of  honor  to  Queen 
Elisabeth. 

Sir  Francis  Boynton,  high  sheriff  of 
Yorkshire,  1536,  knighted  at  York 
April  17th,  1603,  by  King  James,  when 
he  passed  through  that  city  on  his  way 
from  Scotland,  and  had  a  deputation 
dated  at  York  March  llth,  1615,  for 
preserving  game  in  the  North  and  East 
Ridings.  He  died  April  9th,  1 617,  and 
was  buried  at  Barmston.  At  his  death 
he  was  seized  of  the  Manors  of  Barm- 
ston-cum-Winkton,  .Rousby,  Acklam, 
Rudstone,  a  moiety  of  the  manor  of 
Middleton,  Tyas,  and  lands  in  Barm- 
ston, and  the  rectories  of  Barmston  and 
Bridlington  ;  married  Dorothy,  daugh- 
ter and  heiress  of  Sir  Christopher  Place 
of  Holnaby. 

Sir  Matthew  Boynton,  baptized  at 
Barmston  Jan.  26th,  1591,  knighted  by 
King  James  at  Whitehall,  May  9th, 
1618,  and  by  letters  patent,  dated  the 
25th  of  that  month,  advanced  to  the 
dignity  of  a  baronet  of  Great  Britain, 
M.  P.  for  Heyden  1620.  He  was  one 
of  those  rebels  ( ?)  chiefly  entrusted  in 
Yorkshire,  for  whom  Sir  John  Hotham, 


324: 


REMINISCENCES 


and  his  son,  Capt.  Hotham,  were  con- 
triving   the    surrender   of   Hull  to  the 
King.     This  Sir  Matthew  Boynton,  had 
orders  from  parliament  to  have  an  eye 
on  them,  and  endeavor  to  preserve  the 
town  if  he  perceived  it  in  danger,  pur- 
suant to  which  he  contrived  the  seizing 
him,  and  Col.    Matthew  Boynton,  his 
son,  actually  took  Sir  John   prisoner, 
and   received    pardon  under  the  great 
seal  Feb.  10th,  1625,  high  sheriff  co., 
York  1628,  1644  and  1645.     He  had  a 
deputation  dated  at  Westminster  April 
5th,    1631,  for  preserving  the  game -in 
the  North  and  East  Hidings,  M.  P.  for 
Scarborough  Oct.    25th,  1643,  colonel 
of  a  troop  of  Horse,    and   governor  of 
Scarborough  Castle  temp  of  Charles  1st 
and  took  an  active  part  in  the  civil  wars 
of  the   period.     He  died  at   Highgate, 
co.   Middlesex,    and  was  buried  in  the 
chancel  of  St.  Albans,  Holborn,  March 
12th,  1646.     1st  wife,  Frances,  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  Henry  Griffeth   Kent,    and 
Bart,    of   Wicknow,  co.   Stafford   and 
Burton  Agnes,  co.  York  (and  sole  heir- 
ess to  her  brother   Sir  Henry)  by  his 
lady    Elisabeth,    daughter  of   Thomas 
Throckmorton    Esq.    of  Loughton,  co. 
Warwick,  lineally  descended  from  the 
Kings  of  England,  the  Dukes  of  Nor- 
mandy, the  Princes  of  Wales,  and  the 
Earls  of  Northumberland,    before  and 
after    the    Conquest,    of  the    Earls  of 
March  and  Dunbar  in   Scotland,  mar- 
riage settlement  dated  Sept.  27th,  1614, 
and  died  in  July    1634,  aged  36,  and 
buried  at  Rousby,  where  a  tomb  is  erect- 
ed to  her  memory.     2nd  wife,    Katha- 
rine 2nd,  daughter  of  Thomas,  Viscount 
Fairfax  of  Emley. 

Mathew  Boynton,  Lieutenant  Colonel, 
was  slain  at  Wigan,  co.  Lancaster,  Aug. 
26th,  1631,  in  the  advance  of  King 
Charles'  army  towards  Worcester  ;  mar- 


ried Isabel,  daughter  of  Robert  Staple- 
ton,  of  Wighill.  Peregrine  Boynton 
died  Aug.  28th,  1645,  and  was  buried" 
at  Barmston,  whereon  an  epitaph  is  in- 
scribed, 'This  child  God  gave  unto 
them  when  strangers  in  a  foreign  land.' 
Mary  and  other  children." 

This  is  all  the  record  in  England  of 
the  Boj'ntons  coming  to  America. 

Rev.  Ezekiel  Rogers  arrived  in  this 
country  with  many  respectable  York- 
shire families,  "godly  men"  and  "most 
of  them  of  good  estate,"  in  the  autumn 
of  1638.  The  settlement  of  Rowley 
was  commenced  April,  1639.  On  the 
3d  of  Dec.  1639  Mr.  Rogers  was  in- 
stalled pastor  over  the  church. 

The  town  was  laid  out  in  streets  and 
lots.  The  record  reads  :  "On  Bradford 
Streete,  To  John  Boynton,  one  lotte 
containinge  anacree  andahalfe,  bound- 
ed on  the  south  side  by  Michael  Hop- 
kinson's  house  lott,  part  of  it  lyinge  on 
the  west  sid»,  and  part  of  it  on  the  east 
side  of  the  street. 

To  William  Boynton,  one  lott,  con- 
taininge an  acree  and  a  halfe,  bounded 
on  the  south  side  by  John  Boynton's 
house  lott,  part  of  it  lyinge  on  the  west 
side,  and  part  on  the  east  side  of  the 
street." 

John  Boynton  died  in  1670. 
William  Boynton  was  made  Freeman 
in  1640,  died  in  1665.  William,  the 
son  of  William  arid  Elisabeth  Boynton, 
was  the  first  teacher  in  Rowley ;  he 
taught  about  twenty-four  years. 

William  Boynfon  was  one  of  fifty- 
eight,  to  whom,  in  1667,  Hog  Island 
marshes  were  divided  and  laid  out. 
In  1680  Rowley  appointed  nine  tithing 
men  for  the  inspection  of  families. 
Ivory  Kilbarn  was  to  inspect  John  and 
Caleb  Boynton's  families,  ajid  John 
Pearson  the  family  of  Joseph  Boynton. 


OP   A 


325 


In  1691  the  town  paid  Caleb  Boyn- 
ton  £4.  15s.  3d.  for  his  son  William 
Boynton  for  militar}"  service  in  Canada. 

In  1754  Stephen  Boynton  was  out 
under  Capt.  John  Lane  at  the  eastern 
frontier,  and  in  1755  he  was  a  private 
in  a  company  under  Capt.  Thomas 
Gage,  raised  in  Rowley  to  do  duty  at 
Lake  George  and  vicinity. 

John  Boynton  was  out  six  and  a  half 
months  under  Capt.  Jonathan  Pearson 
of  Newbiuy. 

May  31st,  1757,  James  Boyriton's 
name  is  amongst  those  forming  Capt. 
John  Pearson's  Troop  of  Horse. 

June  15th,  1759,  John  Boynton  was 
one  of  Capt.  Thurston's  Alarm  List. 

In  1759  James  Boynton  was  a  pri- 
vate under  Capt.  Thomas  Poor,  of  An- 
dover. 

In  1760  James  Boynton  was  in  a 
company  raised  under  Capt.  James  Her- 
rick,  of  Boxford,  for  the  total  reduction 
of  Canada. 

In  1779  Enoch  Boynton  was  one  of 
Capt.  Thomas  Mighill's  company,  who 
served  in  Col.  Nathaniel  Wade's  regi- 
ment at  West  Point  the  term  of  three 
months. 

Ephraim  Boynton  was  fourth  ser- 
geant in  the  train  band  belonging  to 
Capt.  John  Northend's  compan}'  in 
Rowley.  Ephraim  Boynton  married 
Abigaile,  daughter  of  David  Emery,  of 
Newbury. 

Joshua  Boynton,  son  of  John,  born 
in  1640,  held  two  hundred  acres  of  the 
water  front  on  the  river  Parker  in  By- 
field, 

js|His  son  Joshua,  born  in  1677,  was 
deaco'n  of  the  church  in  that  parish  for 
forty  years  ;  he  died  in  1770. 

Joshua,  born  1677,  died  in  1770. 

Enoch  B»,  born  in  1759,  died  in  1798. 

Enoch,  born  in  1730,  died  in  1805. 


Enoch,  born  in  1799,  died  in  1859. 
His  son,  Methusela,  was  the  father  of 
Alfred  Boynton,  who  married  Abigail 
Moody  ;  children,  Alfred,  Eben  Moody, 
Charles  and  William. 

Enoch  Boynton,  born  in  1773,  died 
in  1859 ;  his  wife,  Alice  Adams,  died 
in  1811. 

Enoch  T.  Boynton,  born1  in  1804, 
died  in  1826. 

Adding  Boynton  born  May  27,  1806. 
The  Boynton  Place  on  the  old  Newbnry 
Turnpike  was  for  }rears  a  noted  tavern  ; 
many  can  remember  the  sign  of  the 
golden  ball.  Afterwards  Enoch  Boyn- 
ton rendered  it  famous  by  his  attempt 
at  raising  silk  worms.  He  has  now  de- 
parted this  life,  and  the  inheritance  of 
so  many  generations  has  passed  from 
the  family. 

The  descendants  of  John  and  AVil- 
liam  Boynton  are  numerous  and  widely 
scattered,  but  wherever  located  they 
show  the  characteristics  of  the  race  from 
which  they  sprang,  energy,  courage, 
and  self-reliance. 

The  Boynton  Arms  are  : 


OR,  BAR     WATS,   GULES    THREE     C11ESCENT8     PROPER. 
CHEST,    A  LION  RAMPANT. 


326 


REMINISCENCES 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

The  fiftieth  anniversary  of  American 
Independence  was  celebrated  in  New- 
buryport with  unprecedented  honors. 
The  day,  which  proved-  unusually  fine, 
was  ushered  in  by  the  ringing  of  bells, 
and  a  salute  of  twenty-four  guns  by  the 
Newburyport  Artillery .  This  was  re- 
peated at  sunset.  At  9  o'clock  the  mil- 
itary companies  formed  under  command 
of  Major  Ebenezer  Bradburj7,  officer  of 
the  day.  At  ten  o'clock  a  procession 
was  formed  on  the  mall  under  the  di- 
rection of  the  following  marshals  : 

For  the  military  procession,. Maj.  Ca- 
leb Gushing,  Capt.  Henry  Merrill,  Adj. 
Charles  Kimball. 

For  the  civil  procession,  Maj.  David 
Emery,  Messrs.  William  Hervey,  Jacob 
W.  Pierce,  Moses  Kent,  John  Greely, 
Samuel  W.  Thompson,  Thomas  Foster. 

The  escort  consisted  of  the  Ipswich 
and  Bradford  Light  Corps,  the  Ames- 
bury  Artillery,  the  Newbury  Cavalry, 
and  the  Newburyport  Artillery  and 
Light  Infantry.  These  two  companies, 
handsomely  uniformed,  the  Artillery 
caps  decorated  by  long  waving  black 
plumes,  and  the  Light  Infantry  by 
white,  produced  a  brilliant  and  impos- 
ing effect. 

Music. 

Major  General  Benjamin  Stickney, 
Brigadier  General  Solomon  Low  and 
numerous  officers  of  the  Second  Brigade 
in  full  uniform. 

The  officiating  clergyman,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Andrews. 

The  orator,  Hon.  John  Merrill. 

The  reader,  George  Cross,  esq. 

The  president  of  the  day,  Maj.  Josh- 
ua Greenleaf. 

The  vice  presidents,  Samuel  March, 
esq.,  Col.  Daniel  Adams,  Capt.  Greene 


Sanborn,  Stephen  W.  Marston,  esq., 
and  Dr.  Richard  S.  Spofford. 

The  Committee  of  Arrangements. 

Officers  and  members  of  the  Franklin 
Debating  Society,  Municipal  Authori- 
ties, Clergy  of  the  town  and  vicinity. 
Next  marched  sixt}T  revolutionary  offi- 
cers and  soldiers,  marshalled  by  Daniel 
Foster,  esq.,  one  of  LaFayette's  Life 
Guard,  displaying  the  cap,  plume  and 
sword  which  he  had  worn  while  in  ser- 
vice. Many  wore  the  continental  equip- 
ments ;  all  a  badge  of  blue  ribbon  im- 
printed with  the  magic  figures  '76.  In 
the  midst,  borne  by  one  of  their  num- 
ber, was  a  tattered  flag  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, which  was  unfurled  at  Bunker  Hill, 
and  there  received  the  shots  that  rent 
it.  This  detachment  was  followed  by 
four  of  the  more  infirm  of  their  number 
in  an  open  barouche,  drawn  by  a  span 
of  superb  white  horses,  among  whom 
was  that  noble  veteran,  the  aged  Col. 
Edward  Wigglesworth.  Next  came  the 
National  and  State  officers  ;  the  New- 
buryport Encampment  of  Knights  Tem- 
plars ;  King  C3Tus'  Chapter  ;  St.  John's, 
St.  Peter's,  St.  Mark's  Lodges  in  full 
regalia,  bearing  banners  and  badges ; 
the  Newburyport  Marine  Society  ;  Mer- 
rimac  Humane  Society ;  the  several 
Fire  Societies ;  Engine  and  Fire  Com- 
panies, each  'bearing  appropriate  ban- 
ners. The  truckmen  in  white  frocks 
made  a  fine  show  ;  these  were  succeed- 
ed by  a  long  line  of  citizens,  the  pro- 
cession being  closed  by  the  children  of 
the  several  schools  in  uniform,  wearing 
badges  with  appropriate  mottoes,  under 
the  care  of  their  instructors. 

The  procession  moved  through  High, 
Federal,  Middle,  the  Market  square, 
Green  and  Pleasant  streets,  to  the 
Pleasant  street  church,  which*  had  been 
handsomely  decorated  b}-  the  ladies,  the 


OF    A 


327 


front  gallery  and  side  wall  pews  being 
reserved  for  them. 

The  orchestra,  led  by  Mr.  Thomas  B. 
White,  was  composed  of  members  of 
the  different  choirs  of  the  town. 

The  exercises  in  the  church  com- 
menced by  a  Voluntary  on  the  organ  by 
Edward  L.  White.  The  following  an- 
them from  the  Oratorio  of  Joshua,  was 
performed  in  fine  style  : 

RECITATIVE. 

"Thou,  whose  shining  throne  eternal  stands 
Above  the  heavens,  who  boldest  in  Thy  hand 
The  fate  of  worlds ;  and  in  Thy  royal  robes 
Adorned  with  suns  and  stars,  dost  fold  the 

globe; 

Thou  art  our  Sovereign,   and  alone  to  Thee, 
God  over  all !  Columbia  bends  the  knee! 
For  this  to-day,  receive,  O  King  of  kings, 
The  grateful   tribute  which  a  nation  brings." 

Chorus, 

''From  every  heart  let  holy  incense  rise! 
With  Hallelujahs,  fill  the  vaulted  skies! 
Ye  herald  angels,  sound  our  song  again, 
While  we,  on  earth,  repeat  a  long  Amen!" 

The  prayer  which  followed,  by  Rev. 
Dr.  Andrews,  is  spoken  of  in  the  New- 
buryport  Herald's  report  as  "peculiarly 
beautiful  and  appropriate,  commanding 
attention  and  admiration  for  its  clear- 
ness of  method,  felicity  of  allusion,  and 
clearness  of  diction.  That  his  impas- 
sioned eulogy  upon  our  sainted  forefath- 
ers, and  his  nervous  delineation  of  the 
trials  and  sufferings  of  the  heroic  men 
who  toiled  and  bled  for  our  sakes,  were 
not  lost  upon  his  auditors,  was  evinced 
by  their  fixed  attention,  and  we  could 
perceive  more  than  one  tear  swell  up 
from  the  heart  of  the  veteran  and  steal 
down  his  careworn  cheek." 

After  the  prayer,  the  following  hymn, 
by  Hannah  F.  Gould,  set  to  music  by 
T.  B.  White,  was  executed  with  great 
effect : 

''Who  when  darkness  gathered  o'er  us, 

Foes  a,iyl  death  on  every  side, 
Clothed  in  glory,  walked  before  us, 

Leading  on,  like  Israel's  guide? 


'T was  Jehovah!  He  appearing 
Show'd  his  banner  far  and  wide. 

When  the  trump  of  war  was  sounding, 
'Twas  the  Lord  who  took  the  field ! 

He,  His  people  then  surrounding, 
Made  the  strong'  in  battle  yield ; 

To  our  fathers,  few  in  numbers, 
He  was  armor,  strength  and  shield. 

In  the  God  of  armies  trusting, 
'Mid  their  weakness,  void  of  fear, 

Soon  they  felt  their  bands  were  bursting, 
Saw  the  dawning  light  appear; 

Clouds  dissolving  in  the  sunbeams, 
Showed  the  band  of  freedom  near. 

Hark !  we  hear  to  Heaven  ascending 

From  the  voices  of  the  free, 
Hallelujahs  sweetly  blending 

With  the  song  of  liberty. 
Power  Almighty !  we  the  vict'ry 

Ever  will  ascribe  to  Thee. 

Lo  the  dove  the  olive  bearing, 
Plants  it  on  Columbia's  shore! 

Every  breast  its  branch  is  wearing, 
Where  the  buckler  shone  before ! 

Praise  the  Eternal!  he  is  reigning! 
Praise  Him,  praise  Him  evermore !" 

The  Declaration  of  Independence  was 
read  by  Robert  Cross,  esq.,  the  Herald 
reportjsays,  "with much  taste,  skill,  and 
judgment,  and  we  considered  it  judi- 
cious in  him  at  that  peculiar  juncture, 
to  add  the  names  of  the  signers  of  the 
Declaration." 

The  following  Original  Ode  was  sung 
to  the  air  of  "Scots  wha  hae." 

"SPIRIT  OF  '76. 

See  the  war  cloud  wildly  driven, 
By  the  pealing  thunder  riven, 
Shrouding  earth  and  rending  heaven, 
Arm  for  liberty ! 

Let  no  haughty  tyrants  vaunt, 
Hearts  of  steel !  your  courage  daunt, 
Be  his  portion  woe  and  want, 
Who  would  faint  or  flee ; 

Think  your  fathers  spurned  the  chain, 
Dared  the  rough  and  stormy  main, 
Not  for  glory,  not  for  gain, 
But  for  rights  you  have ; 

Think  your  fathers  came  not  here, 
Rais'd  the  prayer  and  dropped  the  tear, 
Perils  met,  unblanched  by  fear 
For  a  coward  slave ; 


328 


REMTNTISCEXCES 


Look  around  you,  see  their  graves! 
See  above,  your  banner  waves! 
Hark !  the  voice  of  battle  raves, 
Up,  and  you  are  free ! 

By  the  name  drawn  from  your  sires, 
By  your  homes  and  altar's  fires, 
By  your  hopes  and  fears,  desires, 
Strike  for  liberty!" 

The  oration  by  the  Hon.  John  Mer- 
rill, the  Herald  continues,  "was  spirit- 
ed and  patriotic,  imbued  with  genuine 
republican  feeling,  evincing  correct  sen- 
timent, and  adorned  with  laudable  pre- 
cepts." 

This  was  succeeded  by  an  Ode,  writ- 
ten by  a  lady.  Air— "The  Pillar  of 
Glory." 

"Bring    brightest    laurels   and    let  them  be 

braided, 

Weave  oak  and  olive ! — and  ne'er  be  it  told, 
A  leaf  in  the  crown  of  our  nation   was  faded, 
Or  lost,  when  we  saw  her  full  fifty  years  old ! 
Still  round  thy  forehead  seen, 
Fresh  be  the  evergreen ! 
Pride  of  the  waters  and  Queen  of  the  earth ! 
Loud  all  thy  tribes  shall  sing, 
Rock,  hill  and  forest  ring, 
Echoing,  Hail !  to  the  day  of  thy  birth  I 

Our  colors  adorn  all  the  waves  of  the  ocean, 

Our  eagle  explores  every  region  of  air ! 
Long  as  the  pinions  of  Time   keep  in  motion, 
May  they   ride  in  freedom,   and  valiantly 

there ! 

Penned  on  the  brightest  page, 
Down  to  the  latest  age, 
The  deeds  of  our  sires  shall  as  sunlight  de- 
scend, 

May  every  bosom  feel 
Fired  by  a  noble  zeal, 
The  prize  they  obtained  to  enjoy  and  defend. 

Ye  who  remaining  with  locks  thin  and  hoary, 
Your  toils  in  the  field  to  your  sons   still  re- 
count, 

Proudly  ye  stand  'mid  the  heroes  of  story, 
As  towers  o'er  the  hills  our  own  snow- 
crested  mount; 
Loud  when  the  cannon  roar'd 
Warm  when  the  blood  was  pour'd, 
With  flocks  bounding,  thick  as  the  foes  fall- 
ing then ; 

See  the  green  valley  teem, 
Far  where  the  silver  stream 
Shines  like  your  swords,   spread  at  rest  thro' 
the  glen. 

Spirit  of  him  who  at  Vernon  is  sleeping, 
Bend  in  thy  glory,  and  smile  at  our  mirth ! 

See  the  glad  millions,  the  jubilee  keeping. 
Which  thou  dids't  procure  by  thy  valor  on 
earth ; 


Still  hallowed  be  the  day, 

When  we  have  passed  away, 
And  years  over  years,  shall   like  floods,   roll 
along! 

Then  may  posterity 

Still  be  inspired  by  thee — 
'Freedom  and  Washington'  ever  the  song!" 

The  Cervices  were  closed  by  the  ben- 
ediction by  Rev.  Dr.  Andrews. 

The  dinner,  furnished  b}*  Messrs.  Ty- 
ler &  Cook,  was  served  in  Market  Hall, 
which  was  finely  decorated.  "In  the 
interstices  between  the  windows,  ever- 
greens had  been  interwoven  so  as  to 
give  the  hall  the  appearance  of  a  com- 
plete shrubbery,  in  which  were  birds 
confined  in  cages,  who  saluted  the 
guests  with  their  enlivening  notes  ;  and 
overhead  was  spread  tent  cloths,  to  im- 
part a  military  air  to  the  festival.  At 
the  farthest  extremity  of  the  hall,  over 
the  President's  table,  was  extended  an 
arch  with  this  inscription:  "July  4th, 
1776,"  supported  by  pillars  inscribed 
with  the  names  of  Washington,  War- 
ren, Ward,  Stark,  Varnum,  and  on  the 
other  Putnam,  Prescott,  Brooks,  Green, 
LaFa3'ette. 

The  president  of  the  day,  Maj.  Josh- 
ua Greenleaf,  presided,  assisted  b3~  the 
vice  presidents  at  the  citizens'  tables  ; 
at  the  military,  .Major-General  Stick- 
ney  and  Brigadier-General  Low  did  the 
honors,  assisted  by  Major  Ebenezer 
Bradburj',  Capt.  Daniel  E.  Stickney, 
Capt.  Enoch  Pierce  and  Capt.  Dunnels. 

The  tables  were  handsomely  laid,  and 
the  dinner  was  excellent.  Due  justice 
having  been  done  the  viands,  the  "feast 
of  reason  and  the  flow  of  soul"  com- 
menced. Thirteen  regular  toasts  hav- 
ing been  drank,  the  president  rose  and 
volunteered  this  sentiment — "This  na- 
tional jubilee — A  grateful  country  will 
embalm  the  memory  of  the  patriots  and 
heroes,  whose  blood  and  treasure  se- 
cured to  us  the  blessings  we  now  enjoy." 


OF   A   NONAGENARIAN. 


By  Col.  Daniel  Adams,  vice  presi- 
dent, "Union,  liberty,  aud  independ- 
ence. May  the}'  be  sacred  in  the 
breast,  and  defended  by  the  best  blood 
of  every  American." 

By  Dr.  R.  S.  Spofford,  vice  presi- 
dent, "The  sublime  principles  of  Free 
Masomy.  An  object  of  terror  to  the 
tyrants  of  Europe,  but  in  America,  a 
strong  pillar  in  the  temple  of  liberty." 

By  Capt.  Green  Sanborn,  vice  pres- 
ident, "Our free  country. — May  slavery, 
the  foul  blot,  be  soon  erased  from  its 
escutcheon." 

By  S.  W.  Marston,  esq.,  "Rufus 
King,  Theophilus  Parsons,  John  Quin- 
cy  Adams,  Charles  Jackson  and  Jacob 
Perkins,  our  fellow  citizens,  at  all  times 
the  glory  and  honor  of  their  country." 

By  Gen.  Stickney,  "State  of  Massa- 
chusetts, abounding  in  natural  and  po- 
litical advantages — possessing  a  sound 
head  and  vigorous  constitution." 

By  Hon.  John  Merrill,  orator  of  the 
day,  "The  United  States — their  citizens 
are  distinguished  for  enterprise  and  in- 
telligence. Although  like  Themistocles 
they  may  not  be  plaj'ers  on  the  lute, 
yet,  like  him,  they  know  how  to  make 
a  great  city  of  a  small  one." 

By  Samuel  March,  esq.,  "The  rev- 
erend clergy — may  they  be  to  the  peo- 
ple of  their  charge — going  before  them, 
— a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  a  pillar 
of  fire  by  night,  teaching  them  the  way 
in  which  they  shotild  go."- 

By  Gen.  S.  Low,  "The  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  American  Independence — we' 
hail  it  as  a  pledge  of  a  national  feeling 
which  still  breathes  the  spirit  of  '76  into 
the  vitals  of  the  true  sons  of  America." 

By  Maj.  David  Emery,  "The  Fath- 
ers and  children  of  1776 — may  the  rich 
blessings  they  enjoy  be  multiplied  to  the 
Fathers  and  children  of  1876." 

42 


By  Hon.  C.  Gushing,  "The  present 
generation — my  best  wish  for  them  is, 
that  they  ma}r  but  prove  wise  and  brave 
as  their  fathers,  pure  and  lovely  as  their 
mothers,  and  the  proud  inheritors  of  the 
free  soil,  and  the  free  souls,  which  are 
the  boast  of  America." 

Daniel  Foster,  esq.,  rose  and  spoke 
as  follows  :  "Fellow  Soldiers  of  the  Rev- 
olution,— Allow  me  for  a  moment  to  ex- 
press to  you  my  feelings  on  this  joyful 
occasion.  We  remain  among  the  few 
survivors  of  the  revolutionary  army — 
that  army  which  achieved  the  independ- 
ence we  are  now  assembled  to  celebrate. 
We  enlisted  in  the  good  cause  in  a  day 
of  darkness,  when  our  beloved  country 
was  assailed  by  most  powerful  foes, 
when  her  prospects  were  gloomy  and 
discouraging.  By  the  favor  of  Divine 
Providence,  we  were  safely  conducted 
through  that  long  agony  of  suffering  and 
blood.  By  His  goodness  we  have  been 
continued  through  half  a  century  to  see 
this  glorious  day.  We  then  only  dared 
to. hope  for  the  common  blessings  of 
peace  and  national  independence.  But 
our  most  sanguine  expectations  have 
been  more  than  realized ;  our  thirteen 
colonies  have  become  a  powerful  em- 
pire, enjoying  civil  liberty  and  social 
order,  and  advancing  at  an  astonishing 
rate  in  the  career  of  improvement  and 
national  greatness.  Let  us  hope  that 
we  leave  these  invaluable  privileges  in 
good  hands,  and  that  our  children  and 
children's  children,  by  adhering  to  the 
principles  of  our  immortal  Washington, 
will  transmit  them  unimpaired  to  the 
latest  generations."  Mr.  Foster  con- 
cluded with  the  following:  "Our  Sons 
— may  they  ever  stand  fast  to  the  in- 
tegrity of  our  national  Union,  and  rely- 
ing on  Heaven,  be  always  ready  to  de- 


330 


KEMLNTSCEXCES 


fend  with  their  blood  the  high  privileges 
bequeathed  to  them." 

By  Robert  Cross,  esq.,  "Those  soci- 
eties and  benevolent  individuals  in  all 
countries,  who  are  endeavoring  to  dis- 
seminate the  principles  of  peace — their 
object  may  be  impracticable ;  it  is  at 
least  a  noble  one,  and  worthy  of  a  fair 
experiment.  Success  to  their  cause  ; 
and  at  the  next  jubilee,  may  posterity 
have  occasion  to  commemorate  the  uni- 
versal abolition  of  war."  "The  above 
toast  was  received  with  great  enthusi- 
asm by  the  whole  compan}r,  and  what 
is  worthy  of  remark,  more  particularly 
by  our  military  brethren." 

By  Maj.  Ebenezer  Bradbury,  "The 
march  of  mind — no  retrograding,  no 
countermarching  or  obliquity.  Direct 
to  the  front !" 

By  William  S.  Allen,  "Our  yeoman- 
ry ;  stout  hearts  and  strong  hands — 

'A  country's  pride, 
When  once  it's  lost  can  never  be  supplied.' " 

By  Tristram  Coffin  3d,  "The  brave 
Greeks,  who  are  struggling  for  liberty. 
May  the}'  convince  the  Turks,  by  the 
most  convincing  of  all  arguments — their 
swords — that  they  will  be  free." 

By  John  Adams,  esq.,  of'Andover, 
"May  custom  and  prejudice  yield  to  the 
voice  of  improvement,  and  ma}'  wise 
innovations  meet  the  approbation  of 
sage  experience." 

By  Capt.  Richard  Levering,  "The 
officers  and  soldiers  of  the  Revolution. 
We  carry  the  badges  of  '76,  we  hope  we 
have  the  principles  in  our  breasts." 

Mr.  Short,  "The  tree  of  liberty,  wa- 
tered by  the  blood  of  the  Revolution — 
may  our  children  suffer  no  canker 
worms  to  injure  its  sacred  leaves." 

By  Mr.  Nathaniel  Ladd,  "May  the 
surviving  officers  and  soldiers  of  the 
revolutionary  army  ever  hold  in  grate- 


ful remembrance  the  hospitality  of  the 
citizens  of  Newburyport,  towards  us 
who  fought  and  bled  to  gain  the  inde- 
pendence which  we  are  assembled  this 
day  to  celebrate." 

By  Mr.  Nathan  Follansbee,"  The  rev- 
olutionary heroes  of  '76 — while  we  hon- 
or them  as  the  fathers  of  our  country, 
let  us  not  forget  the  noble  spirit  of  our 
mothers  and  grandmothers,  who  urged 
them  on  to  victory." 

This  last  toast  elicited  rounds  of  ap- 
plause. 

The  following  revolutionary  officers 
and  soldiers  were  at  the  dinner.:  Elias 
Pike,  Gideon  Woodwell,  Daniel  Flan- 
ders, Stephen  Toppan,  William  Hunt- 
ington,  Amos  Carlton.  Amos  Norton, 
Joseph  Pike,  Richard  Short,  Samuel 
Follansbee,  Jonathan  Lambert,  Benja- 
min Poor,  Timothy  Curtis,  Oliver 
Goodrich,  Timotlrv  Gordon,  Nathaniel 
Pearson,  David  Pearson,  Timothy  Poor, 
Caleb  Kimball,  Samuel  Balch,  Benja- 
min Davis,  Aaron  Rogers,  Joseph 
Floyd,  Nathaniel  Howard.  Moses  Short, 
Joseph  Stanwood,  :Elias  Cook,  John 
Pafferd,  John  Bootman,  David  Dole, 
Moses  Somerby,  Joshua  Pettengel,  Far- 
num  Howe,  Jacob  Fowler,  Samuel  Ea- 
ton. Moses  Pike,  Jacob  Currier,  Na- 
thaniel Ladd,  Ezekiel  Merrill,  Daniel 
Adams,  Nathaniel  Beck,  Jacob  Brown, 
Joseph  Moo  trey,  Jacob  Hodgkius, 
Thomas  Stanwood. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  both  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  died  with- 
in a  few  hours  of  each  other  on  this  fif- 
tieth anniversary.  This  singular  occur- 
rence created  a  great  sensation  through- 
out the  countiy,  and  suitable  funeral 
ceremonies  were  held  in  most  of  the  cities 
and  towns  of  the  Union  to  express  the 
national  bereavement.  On  the  14th  of 
July  a  funeral  oration  was  delivered  in 


OF   A   NOISTAGENARIAJST. 


331 


the  Pleasant  street  church  by  Hon.  Ca- 
leb Gushing.  The  church  bells  were 
tolled  from  four  to  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  the  public  buildings  were 
draped  in  mourning,  the  flags  were  at 
half  mast.  At  four  o'clock  a  proces- 
sion of  citizens-  formed  on  the  mall, 
which  marched  through  Green  and  Pleas- 
ant streets  to  the  church.  At  five 
o'clock  the  services  commenced  by  a 
Voluntary  on  the  organ.  A  hymn  was 
sung  by  the  choir,  and  a  prayer  offered 
by  Rev.  Dr.  Andrews,  after  which  the 
following  Ode,  by  Caleb  Gushing,  was 
sung : 

"Forget  not  the  valiant 

Who  have  honored  our  story, 
The  high  and  the  gallant, 

Whose  deeds  are  our  glory ; 
They  are  gone,  but  they  leave  us 

The  meed  of  their  merit, 
Nor  can  ages  bereave  us 

Of  the  fame  we  inherit. 
Then  forget  not  the  valiant 

Who  have  honored  our  story 
The  high  and  the  gallant, 

Whose  deeds  are  our  glory. 

The  soil  that  descended 

To  our  fathers  in  honor, 
They  nobly  defended 

From  shame  and  dishonor; 
And  when  to  the  slaughter 

Our  heroes  were  given, 
Tlie  blood  of  each  martyr 

Rose  like  incense  to  heaven. 
Tlii-n  forget  not  the  valiant 

Who  have  honored  our  story, 
The  high  and  the  gallant, 

Whose  deeds  are  our -glory.' 

The  eulogy  having  been  pronounced, 
the  exercises  closed  with  the  "Dirge  of 
Adams  -and  Jefferson."  Tune  "Judg- 
ment Hymn." 

"The  portals  of  the  grave  unfold  — 

In  dust  Columbia's  weeping! 
Shrouded  in  death's  dark  pall,  behold 

The  patriot  Father.-  sleeping! 
While  to  their  God  their  M>U!S  have  risen, 
Still  round  each  cold,  deserted  prison, 

.Sorrow  her  watch  is  keeping. 

Those  names,  whose  beams  effulgent  met, 

Our  freedom's  charter  lighting, 
Within  the  Book  of  Life  are  set, 

In  glory  there  uniting! 
While  thousands  here  the  patriarchs  blest,  • 


Their  title  to  immortal  rest, 
The  Lamb  above  was  writing. 

'Twas  on  a  great,  a  hallo w'd  day, 

The  mortal  conflict  ending, 
The  sister  spirits  dropped  their  clay — 

To  Heaven,  their  home,  ascending; 
They  rose,  from  care  and  suffering  free, 
Above  the  grave,  with  victory, 

And  angel  hosts  attending! 

When  twoscore  years  and  ten  were  gone, 

Since  glad  our  nation  started 
From  Slav'ry's  night,  to  hail  the  dawn, 

Whence  Freedom's  rays  first  darted, 
They  saw  the  rising  sun  appear; 
But,  ere  the  evening  clouds  drew  near, 

The  hoary  saints  departed. 

Sages,  your  name,  your  virtues  still, 
Though  from  your  dust  we  sever, 

With  sacred  joy  each  heart  shall  fill, 
Your  mem'ry  perish  never! 

The  earth  one  mantle  still  retains! 

Tho'  gone  the  Sire,  the  Son  remains ! 
Farewell,  great  Shades,  forever." 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

In  1825  a  factory  for  weaving  hose 
was  established  in  a  building  on  Brown's 
square. 

In  1827  a  school  for  instruction  in 
working  lace  was  opened,  and  for  a 
time,  of  an  afternoon,  scarcely  a  j'oung 
girl  could  be  seen  without  a  lace  hoop 
or  frame  in  her  hand.  Very  elegant 
veils  wrought  in  frames  supported  by  a 
stand,  were  worked.  For  a  period  this 
lace  business  continued  quite  remuner- 
ative. 

This  year  the  Newburyport  bridge 
was  built ;  an  elegant  structure  sus- 
pended from  arches  by  chains,  similar 
to  the  open-part  of  the  Essex  Merrimac 
bridge.  This  gave  place  to  the  less 
graceful  railroad  bridge  in  1840. 

In  January,  1824,  my  Aunt  O'Brian's 
adopted  daughter,  Eliza  Bartlett,  was 
married  in  Reading,  Penn.,  with  Mr. 
John  Heiner  Weitzel.  The  next  sum- 


REMINISCENCES 


mer  the  young  couple  visited  New  Eng- 
land. Mr.  Weitzel  kept  a  general  fur- 
nishing store  in  Reading,  and  he  pur- 
chased six  pairs  of  brogans  for  his  store 
of  Uncle  Joe  Little ;  these  gave  such 
satisfaction  to  the  Dutchmen,  his  cus- 
tomers, that  an  order  was  forwarded  for 
twenty-five  pairs  ;  this  was  succeeded  hy 
another  for  fifty,  then  a  hundred,  and 
so  on.  Thus  commenced  the  Southern 
shoe  trade  of  Georgetown. 

On  October  20th,  1826,  my  Aunt  Pea- 
body  died  in  "Washington,  D.  C.,  and 
the  following  25th  of  February,  1827, 
Gen.  John  Peabody  followed  her  to  the 
spiritual  world.  They  had  been  level}' 
in  their  lives,  and  not  long  divided  by 
death. 

Capt.  O'Brian  having  died  in  1825, 
his  widow  returned  to  New  England. 
As  her  mother  was  a  confirmed  invalid 
she  remained  with  her.  In  the  autumn 
of  1826  Mrs.  O'Brian  was  seized  with 
paralysis  of  the  brain,  from  which  she 
died  in  January,  1827.  Grandmother 
Little  lingered  about  two  years  longer, 
when  the*  spirit  was  released  from  the 
decrepit  body,  by  which  it  had  so  long 
been  enthralled. 

In  the  summer  of  1829  I  paid  my  first 
visit  to  Boston.  My  brother  Joseph  re- 
sided on  Eaton  street.  Opposite  was 
one  of  the  old  colonial  mansions,  sur- 
rounded by  a  spacious  garden.  I  was 
entertained  by  the  attractions  of  the 
city.  Amongst  the  most  prominent 
were  the  New  England  Museum,  and 
the  Athenaeum  on  Pearl  street.  On  a 
visit  some  two  years  later,  I  first  saw 
the  model  of  a  railroad,  with  miniature 
locomotive  and  cars,  which  was  exhib- 
ited in  the  hall  over  the  Quincy  market. 

In  the  spring  of  1831,  the  Rev.  James 
Miltimorc  having  become  too  infirm  to 
officiate  in  the  pastoral  office,  we  took 


a  pew  in  the  Pleasant  street  church. 
Dr.  Andrews  resigned  soon  after,  and 
the  Rev.  Thomas  B.  Fox  was  ordained 
the  3d  of  August. 

The  advent  of  this  young  man  brought 
a  new  era  to  the  Pleasant  street  society*, 
and  to  the  town.  The  spacious  house 
of  worship  became  crowded".  For  bet- 
ter accommodation  two  lines  of  slips 
took  the  place  of  the  ancient  square 
pews  in  the  front  galleries.  The  beau- 
tiful glass  chandelier  was  taken  down 
to  give  room  for  one  of  bronze  and  gilt, 
with  five  burners  for  sperm  oil.  Simi- 
lar single  lamps  were  suspended 
throughout  the  edifice,  and  the  pulpit 
was  lighted  by  a  drop  lamp  over  the 
desk,  with  Argand  burners  on  either 
side.  The  old-fashioned  organ  was  re- 
placed b}-  the  present  fine  instrument. 
A  flourishing  Sunday  school  was  estab- 
lished numbering  over  a  hundred  pupils, 
under  the  instruction  of  a  band  of 
young  men  and  maidens  which  the 
youthful  pastor  had  gathered  around 
him,  and  into  whom  he  had  infused  his 
own  eager  enthusiasm  for  truth,  pro- 
gress and  reform. 

In  October  the  clergyman  was  united 
in  marriage  with  Miss  Fereline  Pierce, 
a  daughter  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Pierce 
of  Brookline.  This  gave  a  season  of 
gaiety  to  the  parish,  the  Sunday  school 
children  being  invited  on  the  Saturday 
afternoon  after  the  lady's  arrival  in 
Xewburyport,  to  visit  their  pastor's  res- 
idence, to  kiss  the  bride,  and  receive  a 
piece  of  bride-cake,  an  event  which  I 
am  certain  they  have  never  forgotten. 
On  the  afternoon  of  the  Communion 
Sabbath  a  service  especially  for  chil- 
dren was  instituted  ;  they  occupied  the 
singing  gallery  forming  the  choir,  and 
the  front  tiers  of  pews  next  the  pulpit ; 
their  pastor  standing  upon  the  raised 


OF   A 


333 


platform  beneath  it,  using  the  commun- 
ion table  for  a  desk.  There  he  preached 
from  month  to  month  a  series  of  dis- 
courses familiarly  termed  ''Little  Ser- 
mons," which  attracted  many  children 
outside  of  his  parish,  and  which  all  who 
had  the  privilege  of  hearing'  must  re- 
member— words  which  have  oft  recurred 
in  memory  to  warn  and  cheer  through 
life's  checkered  scenes.  Small  hymn 
books  were  provided  especially  for  the 
Sunday  school ;  afterwards  a  liturgy  for 
its  use  was  introduced.  The  library  re- 
ceived a  large  addition  'of  instructive 
and  valuable  books.  A  society  libraiy 
was  also  formed,  containing  much  choice 
reading.  A  course  of '  'Expositoiy  Lec- 
tures" was  held  on  the  Wednesday  even- 
ings of  each  week,  with  an  evening  lec- 
ture on  the  first  Sunday  in  the  month — 
Communion  Sunday.  A  great  interest 
was  aroused  ;  many  children  were  pre- 
sented for  baptism,  and  many  persons 
united  with  the  church.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Edward  Toppan  and  myself  were  in- 
cluded in  the  number,  and  Mr.  Toppan 
was  chosen  to  the  office  of  deacon. 

The  following  summer,  lectures  on 
Botany  were  given  to  the  Sunday  school 
children  after  the  afternoon  service ; 
and  in  the  autumn  Mr.  Fox  got  up  a 
picnic  in  the  woods  around  the  "Devil's 
Den  and  Basin."  The  Sunday  school 
was  conveyed  in  hacks  and  stage-coach- 
es ;  the  society  went  in  their  own  teams. 
This  was  the  first  picnic  ever  held  in 
these  parts.  That  winter,  Mr.  Fox,  to 
the  great  delight  of  the  participants,  in- 
troduced tableaux.  The  next  summer 
flowers  were  placed  upon  the  table  at 
the  children's  meetings  ;.  after  a  time  a 
small  vase  adorned  the  table  amidst  the 
massive,  antique,  silver  tankards,  at  the 
observance  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Af- 
ter a  while  this  vase  of  flowers  became 


a  regular  adjunct  of  the  Sabbath  wor- 
ship. 

Mr.  Fox  having  been  placed  upon  the 
school  committee,  a  new  era  commenced 
in  our  public  schools  ;  and  in  after  years 
he  was  principally  instrumental  in  the 
formation  of  the  High  school  for  girls 
in  Newburyport,  which  was  the  first  in 
the  state.  To  the  3-011  th  of  the  town  he 
was  a  most  faithful  friend  and  cham- 
pion, and  his  memory  will  ever  be  grate- 
full}'  cherished.  As  might  be  inferred, 
these  innovations  on  old-time  usages, 
"these  new-fangled  doings,"  caused  no 
small  stir  throughout  our  quiet,  staid, 
strict  community.  It  was  a  period  of 
much  religious  excitement.  "Protract- 
ed," or  four  days'  meetings  were  the 
vogue.  Great  revivals  were  in  progress, 
and  there  was  much  controvers}'  and 
sectarian  bitterness  ;  Mr.  Fox  and  his 
society  received  a  full  share  of  con- 
tumely ;  his  "little  sermons"and  lectures 
were  derided,  his  picnics  were  termed 
"Fox's  Caravans;"  the  tableaux  were 
theatrical  enormities,  which  could  not 
be  too  severely  condemned,  and  the 
flowers  in  the  church  were  something 
too  terrible  to  contemplate  without  a 
shudder — "Such  Popish  folly  !  Posies 
in  the  meeten'us  !  they  might  as  well 
turn  Papists  at  once." 

Annually  in  the  spring,  a  service  had 
been  held  at  the  Orphan  Asylum,  when 
those  unbaptized  children  who  had  been 
admitted  during  the  }Tear  were  conse- 
crated by  the  rite.  If  a  new  clergyman 
had  been  ordained  since  the  last  service, 
it  had  been  customary  to  invite  him  to 
officiate.  According  to  custom,  it  was 
proposed  to  extend  this  courtesy  to  Mr. 
Fox ;  but  such  a  fierce  opposition  was 
raised,  that  the  members  of  the  Asylum 
Society  belonging  to  the  Pleasant  street 
congregation,  withdrew  from  the  asso- 


334 


REMINISCENCES 


elation,  leaving  the  opposition  to  con- 
duct matters  to  their  satisfaction. 
Funds  in  consequence  became  low,  and 
the  Asylum  was  eventually  discontin- 
ued. Soon  after,  the  Society  for  Aged 
Females  was  instituted. 

Dr.  Spring  died  in  March,  1819,  and 
the  Rev.  Luther  F.  Dimmick  was  or- 
dained over  the  societ^y  of  the  North 
church  the  next  December.  The  Rev. 
John  Charles  March  was  ordained  over 
the  Belleville  society  in  March,  1832. 
The  Rev.  James  Miltimore  died  in 
March,  1836,  at  the  venerable  age  of 
81  years.  Parson  Miltimore  was  an  af- 
fable and  courteous  gentleman,  a  fine 
writer,  and  a  most  devoted  pastor  and 
friend. 

Dr.  Elijah  Parish  died  Oct.  15th, 
1825,  in  his  64th  j-ear.  Thus  was  lost 
to  the  New  England  church  one  of  its 
most  distinguished  members  ;  but  the 
fervent  eloquence  and  fiery  zeal  of  the 
great  Federalist  divine  is  still  a  cher- 
ished memory,  and  his  quick  wit  and 
fine  social  qualities  will  remain  as  pleas- 
ant reminiscences  to  be  transmitted  to 
posterity. 

At  this  time,  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  was 
at  the  zenith  of  his  fame.  Upon  his  re- 
moval to.  Boston,  my  brother,  Joseph 
L.  Smith,  became  his  parishioner ;  but 
not  being  fully  satisfied  with  the  preach- 
ing of  the  celebrated  clergj-rnan,  through 
Dr.  Shurtleff,  his  family  physician,  he 
became  a  reader  of  the  works  of  Eman- 
uel  Swedenborg.  Though  not  inclined 
to  literary  pursuits,  in  an  incredibly 
short  time  hg  became  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  voluminous  writings 
of  the  Swedish  seer,  and  an  enthusiastic 
receiver  of  his  doctrine. 

The  New  Jerusalem  church  in  Boston 
was  then  in  its  infancy,  comprising 
scarce!}'  more  than  a  dozen  communi- 


cants. Mr.  Smith  became  one  of  the 
most  zealous  and  energetic  of  the  soci- 
et}',  devoting  both  his  purse  and  his  apt 
business  talents  to  its  service.  This  in- 
terest never  flagged  until  his  decease, 
which  took  place  at  the  early  age  of 
forty-three. 

Father,  mother,  sister  and  husband 
have  also  gone  ; — of  the  former  house- 
hold band,  my  brother  James  alone  re- 
mains. 

The  only  persons  still  living  on  High 
street,  who  icsided  there  during  my 
early  married  life,  are  Capt.  and  Mrs. 
Joshua  Pillsbury,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rich- 
ard Ordway,  and  Capt.  David  Wood. 

That  Centennial  of  our  Independence 
which  loomed  so  dimby  in  the  far  future 
when  my  husband  gave  his  sentiment 
at  the  Fiftieth  Anniversary,  I  have 
passed.  I  have  lived  to  ride  upon  rail- 
roads, and  receive  messages  by  the 
electric  wires  ;  to  have  friends  cross  the 
ocean  in  steamships  ;  to  send  messages 
back  b\-  the  sub-marine  cable  ;  the  tele- 
phone is  in  operation  in  several  lines 
through  our  streets,  and  the  phonograph 
is  on  exhibition  in  our  public  halls. 

The  first  anthracite  coal  fire  I  ever 
saw  was  in  an  open  grate  in  my  broth- 
er's house,  in  Boston,  about  1830.  It 
was  regarded  with  curiosity  ;  and  the 
idea  of  using  such  material  for  fuel  elic- 
ited considerable  derision  in  the  com- 
munity. Now,  a  wood  fire  is  the  curi- 
osity. Kerosene  and  gas  illuminate 
our  dwellings  in  lieu  of  candles  and 
fish  or  whale  oil.  The  horse  cars  run 
through  our  streets,  and  steamboats 
navigate  our  river.  Though  our  dwell- 
ings on  the  whole  may  not  be  as  spa- 
cious and  imposing  as  formerly,  they 
are  much  more  convenient  and  comfort- 
able ;  the  same  may  be  said  of  the 
churches,  public  edifices,  and  stores. 


OP   A  NONAGENARIAN. 


335 


P^very  department  of  life  has  been  im- 
proved by  science,  art,  and  ingenuity. 
Though  our  schools  may  not  exhibit  the 
superiority  commensurate  with  the  in- 
creased expense,  no  one  would  wish  to 
renew  the  ancient  regime,  or  return  to 
the  former  incommodious  school-houses, 
with  their  huge  fireplaces  and  sizzling 
green  logs.  Though  there  is  more  lax- 
ity on  the  Sabbath,  and  fine  organs  and 
choirs  are  requisite  concomitants  of  re- 
ligious service,  still,  considering  the  in- 
crease and  change  in  our  population,  I 
see  no  decrease  in  true  Christianity  ;  on 
the  contrary,  we  are  before  our  fathers 
in  the  truest  interpretation  of  neighbor- 
ly love  and  charity.  Look  at  our  insti- 
tutions for  the  amelioration  of  the  race  ; 
at  the  various  societies  for  spiritual  and 
moral  advancement ;  if  there  is  not  as 
much  of  the  letter  there  is  more  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Divine  law.  Much  is  said 
of  the  deterioration  of  society  ;  perhaps 
it  would  be  well  to  teach  our  children  a 
little  of  the  old-time  courtes}',  and  as 
well  to  practise  it  somewhat  more  our- 
selves ;  bu«  in  that  kindly  social  inter- 
est which  constitutes  true  politeness, 
we  are  not  deficient,  and  many  of  the 
every-day  customs  of  our  fathers  would 
not  be  tolerated  for  a  moment.  Our 
young  ladies  would  not  so  smilingly  re- 
ceive a  band  of  young  men  reeling  from 
the  dining  to  the  drawing-room,  with 
the  slightly  deprecating  remark  that, 
4 'they  were  only  a  little  over-dinnerish, 
and  not  to  be  minded."  And  the  boys' 
battle-ciy  of  "up-alongers  and  down- 
alongers,  rush  'em,  rush  'em  !"  has  long 
since  ceased.  Another  feature  in  the 
former  social  system  would  not  now  be 
permitted  ;  I  refer  to  the  treatment  often 
received  by  the  little  bound  girls  in  fam- 
ilies. I  have  often  seen  such  children 
going  to  the  pump  in  mid-winter,  clad 


only  in  a  homespun  short  gown  and 
petticoat,  with  slipshod  shoes,  disclos- 
ing huge  holes  in  the  heels  of  their 
stockings,  and  an  old  hood  tied  over 
their  tangled  hair.  Domestic  servitude 
and  labor  of  all  kinds  commands  much 
more  respect  and  regard  for  its  rights 
and  comfort  than  it  did  a  hundred  years 
ago.  We  hear  much  complaint  of  hard 
times  and  low  wages.  But  what  would 
our  laborers  think  of  working  for  fifty 
cents  a  day,  or  our  d©mestics  at  receiv- 
ing only  two  shillings  and  sixpence  a 
week,  with  cotton  cloth  at  fifty  cents, 
and  calico  a  dollar  per  yard  !  The  best 
of  mechanics  received  not  more  than  a 
dollar  a  day  ;  ma  113-,  for  a  time,  could 
not  obtain  work  even  at  a  lower  price. 

In  physical  knowledge  and  culture 
there  is  also  a  marked  change.  The 
laws  of  health  are  better  understood  and 
applied.  As  a  rule  our  houses  are  kept 
neater,  ah1  are  warm  in  winter,  and  in 
every  way  better  prepared  for  health 
and  comfort  through  the  }'ear.  One 
would  now  be  considered  insane  to  dress 
through  the  cold  season,  as  was  the 
mode  in  my  girlhood.  Generally  there 
are  truer  views  of  life  amongst  the 
37outh  in  our  community,  less  false 
pride,  and  more  industry  amongst  the 
higher  classes.  Our  young  men  form 
Christian  Associations  and  similar  so- 
cieties ;  our  young  ladies  employ  their 
leisure  in  teaching  in  Sunda}T  schools 
and  week  day  sewing  schools  for  poor 
children,  taxing  their  skill  and  ingenuity 
on  articles  for  charity  fairs,  while  the}' 
visit  the  poor,  sick  and  infirm,  carrying 
not  only  solid  aid,  but  the  light  of  their 
bright,  sympathetic  faces.  We  see  lit- 
tle of  the  "Lj'dia  Languish,"  the  sickly, 
sentimental,  mincing  style,  which  held 
fashionable  ascendency  for  a  period. 

Art   has   taken  a  much  higher   rank 


336 


REMINISCENCES 


than  of  3'ore  ;  though  the  public  taste 
has  not  quite  risen  to  a  perfect  standard, 
it  has  greatly  improved.  Instead  of 
only  three  or  four  pianos  in  the  town, 
scarcely  a  dwelling  of  any  pretension 
is  without  an  instrument  of  some  kind  ; 
even  in  the  humblest  abode  the  strains 
of  a  cabinet  organ  are  often  heard,  ac- 
companied by  the  cultivated  voice  of  a 
sweet  singer. 

Our  public  library  and  reading  room 
furnish  the  best  of  books  ;  these,  with 
magazines  and  periodicals,  and  the  li- 


braries attached  to  the  Sabbath  schools, 
preclude  that  literar}7  hunger  which  I 
often  experienced  in  my  youthful  (lays. 

Though  there  is  yet  room  for  improve- 
ment, on  the  whole,  the  world  is  stead- 
ily advancing  in  material  and  spiritual 
interests.  Let  every  one  "press  towards 
the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  call- 
ing of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

"I  have  been  }*oung,  and  now  am 
old,  A'et  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous 
forsaken,  nor  his  seed  begging  bread." 


from  which  it  was  borrowed 


A     000  035  005 


